


Behind The Band

by Basmathgirl



Series: From July to AUgust [5]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, both the film & the TV show, of course I thought of The Bodyguard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 22,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25405468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basmathgirl/pseuds/Basmathgirl
Summary: A Doctor/Donna AU set in the rock band world where a bodyguard is needed.
Relationships: Martha Jones/Mickey Smith, Tenth Doctor/Donna Noble
Series: From July to AUgust [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820155
Comments: 144
Kudos: 54
Collections: AUgust 2020, Hurt/Comfort Bingo - Round 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **AUgust Prompt(s):** bodyguard AU, rock band AU  
>  **Hurt/Comfor Prompt:** forced to uncover past trauma  
>  **Disclaimer:** I once held a concert ticket, and that's about it.  
>  **A/N:** this was intended to be a one-shot, but I've gone and added to it. The artwork is mine.

Walking down the narrow corridor brought back memories of long ago. Small theatres, large venues, arenas, all have the same vibe. The far-off sounds of music playing somewhere and even the same smells assaultedhis senses. 

He’d missed it, he was surprised to note as he relaxed into this new experience of an old perspective. But he didn’t have time to reminisce; his concentration was on one of the star dressing rooms ahead of him. Number one, to be precise. Inside was Donna Noble, third member of ‘The Companions’, a famous all female singing group. A successful trio renowned for their singing ability, catchy tunes, and sexy outfits. She was his next assignment. 

Time to finally meet her. Bringing up a hand, he confidently knocked.

The dressing room door was thrown open and a familiar, ginger-haired framed, beautifully made up, face peered out at him. “Can I help you?” she immediately asked. 

“You should be expecting me,” he announced as he wrenched his gaze upwards from her tight-fitting shiny black dress and then gulped. “I’m John Smith, your replacement bodyguard.”

Stepping back to let him in, she squinted at his formally suited back. “Okay, I might be dreaming this. You’re my bodyguard?”

“Yes.” He stood looking around the small room, noting where everything was to assess whether it was correctly placed and if anyone unwanted would be able to get in to harm his latest client. 

This tall, skinny man couldn’t be a bodyguard, she thought. No way. Her former one had been built like a brickhouse and looked like a heavyweight boxer. This new bloke was more likely to set up her internet connection. “Hmm. Just assuming I believe you, what special bodyguard skills do you possibly possess?”

“Akido,” he replied, snapping his attention back onto her to stress his case. “Venusian Akido, to be precise.”

“I see.” She warily eyed him up and down. Not bad at all, as eye candy went, but he could be a complete fantasist with a Napoleon Bonaparte complex for all she knew. “Did you get beyond achieving your yellow belt?”

“Ha ha,” he sarcastically responded. “You’ll be asking me next if I know anything about the music business.”

Alright, she hadn’t even considered it yet, but it was worth asking. “Well? Do you?”

“Yes,” he drawled. “I used to be in a successful band.”

“Which one?” she inevitably asked. Probably a roadie, she presumed, or the song writer.

“You might have heard of us,” he proudly offered. “Kasterborous.”

“Kasterborous,” she repeated to herself, the name familiar on her tongue. “I remember them. Shared a bill with them once, back when we first started. At the Hippodrome, I think. They were much higher up the billing than we were. I remember standing in the wings watching their set, and there was this rather sexy…” Her voice trailed off as she realised who the sexy bloke in the leather trousers who played bass had been. Actually was. Stood right in front of her. “…singer,” she ended with instead.

[ ](https://64.media.tumblr.com/0c7dcb92919a5b2702d8b00481deda34/f7f934bca4d9f3dc-ed/s400x600/3f178392e865b309cc6091a19663b8d73717ab6a.png)

“That would have been Jack,” he answered matter-of-factly. “Everybody fancied him.” He idly picked up a bottle of makeup on her dressing table to investigate what it was before nonchalantly adding, “Still do, from what I hear.”

A bit peeved about Jack’s popularity, by the sound of it. “Do you remember us from that gig?” she wondered. 

“Well. Erm…” He blushed, ducking his head away as he replaced the bottle, but she could easily see him in the large mirror that covered the wall. 

Did the blush actually mean what she thought it meant? “Which one of us did you fancy?” she asked, eager to tease him about it.

“The… the erm…” Oh lordy, he thought. “The blonde one,” he reluctantly admitted.

“Ah, of course,” she noted. 

Donna wasn’t surprised in the slightest to hear his choice. Well, everybody fancied their lead singer too so of course he’d choose Rose. No doubt Rose Tyler adorned more adolescent bedroom walls than she’d had hot dinners. 

He tried to smile whimsically at her, so Donna offered, “If you’re a good boy, I’ll introduce you to her later. Martha will be gutted you didn’t pick her though.”

“Martha Jones?” he near squeaked, jerking his head up.

“The very one.” She nodded. “Got a thing for her as well, have you?”

“No,” he hotly denied. 

“Thought so,” she crooned. “Never mind. Good job you ended up with me otherwise you’d have combusted with pleasure by now. But at least I can provide you with access to them.”

“What about you?” he wondered as she picked up a lip gloss and carefully applied some. 

Her stage makeup looked okay, she decided, as she peered in the mirror. “What about me?” she countered, pursing her lips before setting the gloss down and facing him. “If you’re asking for special ‘access’, I don’t put up with any of that nonsense, and I won’t have you harassing them either. Is that clear?”

“No, no, no, no. I didn’t mean that,” he hastily assured her. “I was just asking if you… you know… have your own fans.”

“Oh.” Not what she had expected to hear at all. She picked up her stiletto shoes and began to put them on to finish her stage outfit. “I have a few people who follow what I do. Not nearly as many as the other two, obviously, but backing singers who look like me rarely do. And they’re loyal fans.” 

He was appalled to hear her talk like that. “Look like you?” he queried, sweeping his gaze from the top of her styled ginger hair, down her curvaceous figure covered in a long sequined dress to her elegantly covered feet. To him she looked stunningly beautiful. 

“Don’t worry,” she said as she walked past him to open the door, “I keep in the shadows as much as possible. Can’t have all of this on view.” As he stood gawping at her, she encouraged him to move with a nod of her head. “Come on then, Mr Bodyguard. Let’s make sure nobody tries to rip this dress off as a souvenir before I’ve had the chance to wear it on stage.”

“Allons-y,” he murmured to himself under his breath. “Boy am I in trouble…”

  
gif by [donnascullys](http://donnascullys.tumblr.com/post/144766724918)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I thought I'd keep to the same sort of length for the following chapters. Hope that's alright.

The temperature changed in the narrow corridor as they neared the stage, getting hotter as the vibrant energy of anticipation in the air expanded. Music pulsed from somewhere ahead of them, but they weren’t quite near enough to have any conversation drowned out by it. John could feel the beat in his teeth as they approached the stage wings. 

Unaware of his nostalgic thoughts, his latest assignment forged on in front him, along the corridor. “Martha, look what I’ve got with me,” Donna greeted her friend and fellow band mate. 

“What?” Martha queried, bending to look behind Donna and seeing a tall, attractive man. “Who’s he?”

“This is my new shadow,” Donna continued, thumbing towards him. “John, meet the one and only Martha Jones.”

“It’s a pleasure, Ms Jones.” He beamed a smile as he greeted her. 

However, his head jerked sideways when Donna placed a tender hand on his arm. 

“Don’t get too overexcited,” she warned, leaning in to speak close to his ear. “I haven’t shown you to Rose yet.”

“A big fan of hers, is he?” Martha pondered with a knowing smirk on her face.

“No more than normal,” Donna retorted. “And here’s the lovely lady herself.”

“Who?” Rose asked as she appeared by their side. “Have I done something wrong?”

“Not really,” Donna joked. “Just wanted to introduce my new bodyguard to you. Rose, meet John.”

A bright smile instantly spread across Rose’s face. “Well hello John,” she seductively drawled.

“That’s enough of that,” Donna interrupted her flirt, pushing Rose towards the stage. “I’ve already exceeded my sugar allowance for today.”

“Donna, you spoil all my fun,” Rose playfully complained, letting herself be pushed. “Let me just have a minute.”

“Later,” Donna responded as they stepped properly onto the stage. “Rory will be furious if we leave him alone on stage for too long. Poor sweetheart has enough trouble keeping control of his drums as it is.”

“I heard that!” Rory grumbled from his drum kit. At least he was used to their teasing now, but when he’d first started as part of their backing group, he’d been unsure how to take it. 

Standing vigilantly in the wings, John saw the guitarist, Mickey, take his position and smirk at Rory in consolation. Mickey Smith and Rory Williams were fine musicians, from what he remembered, back in his own band days. It was good to see that they were still part of the scene, and he promised himself that he’d grab the chance to catch up with them properly later. 

Then he sighed because, just as the three women readied themselves to sing, Donna turned and gave him a saucy wink. What had he let himself in for? At least this new assignment was turning out to be amusing, he considered. As for the glamorous trio now stood in front of their microphones, time would only tell.

♫♪♫♪

It took all his willpower to remain scanning the audience for any possible threat as The Companions sang their set. His heart wanted him to turn and listen properly, to bask in his new success being nearer to them. Okay, he had all the albums, with his favourite songs saved to his phone, but to stand there with them actually performing the tunes he knew so well was amazing.

Then Donna glanced cheekily in his direction and he was gone, drifting off into night-time fantasies for a few seconds before his brain jerked him back into the moment. Minx, he thought. She knew what she was doing to him. 

Or perhaps she didn’t, he realised. This was all part of her teasing him for mentioning the other girls. He silently vowed to himself that she would never get to see his poster collection or saved images. Not if he wanted to savour his life. 

He wished he had shared more than two words with her, back when they’d been on the same bill. But it worked in his favour if she hardly remembered him personally. At least she knew who Kasterborous were. Had been. 

Dutifully, he had followed her back to the dressing room once their set was over, keen to appear on the ball. When she had opened the door, she halted him entering the room, whispering, “You can give the room a quick once over, to make sure it’s safe but after that, you stay out here while I change. Is that understood?”

Flustered, he answered, “Well, erm… I should technically stay in the room. You know. Just in case.”

“And technically you don’t want me to thump you in the crown jewels,” she countered, smiling her sweetest smile. “That way, we can all be happy.”

Involuntarily placing a hand in front of him protectively, he murmured, “I think I can live with that.”

“Good. Now go on, Mr Bodyguard. Be a good boy and scan the room.” She leaned closer to say, “I might give you a little treat later.”

He turned his head to complain about being spoken to like a puppy and found himself almost too near tempting lips. All he could smell, and taste was her perfume, inviting him to stay close. “What sort of a treat?” he heard himself feebly asked. 

She merely pouted and moved to stand in front of the mirror. “That would be telling,” she teased, speaking via her reflection. “Now hurry up. I want to have a quick shower before we leave for the hotel.”

As he peered in all the significant corners of the room, he couldn’t help envisioning that shower, and raced out the room to hide his shame. If he didn’t get this bit right, he’d never cope with being in the same hotel room.


	3. Chapter 3

After a surprisingly short amount of time, considering, Donna reappeared at her dressing room door, looking fresh, ready to leave and face the fans. 

Taking in her designer jeans and top, John managed to mumble something in her direction. “You look…,” he began his compliment.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she dismissed as though he’d just insulted her, “but we can’t all be supermodels.” She swept passed him and asked, “Where are the other two? Oh, there they are. Come on, John boy. Keep up.”

And then she was gone, leaving him to get with the programme, yet again. A few swift steps and he easily caught her up before they reached the exit. He sighed in relief as he mentally put his body on alert. This, after all, was what the job was about.

The screams outside the theatre brought back more memories when the group left through the stage door to sign autographs. John stood protectively behind Donna whilst the crowd jostled each other to get to the front. 

After a suitable amount of time, a path was forced through the throng to three London taxis ready and waiting to whoosh them all away. It hadn’t gone too badly, and John had resisted laughing when Donna cautioned, “Oi! Watch it, sunshine. You’re so close to me I’ll be in your front pocket soon if you’re not careful.”

Amusement, like relaxation, were elements of the job that could wait until later. Caution was key. Part of it was anticipation, so it did not surprise him in the slightest when Rose clambered into the same car as Donna. He sat opposite them in the black cab, filing away the moment for future glee. 

After the grand total of a minute, Rose couldn’t hold in her curiosity any longer. “So why have you got a tasty new bodyguard of your own, Donna? I don’t understand. Is there something you haven’t told me?”

“No more than usual,” Donna airily answered. “Nerys said something about dodgy letters. Probably the usual tosh about sex. Otherwise I haven’t a clue, but I will find out. Anything you’re allowed to tell me, John?”

Still watching the crowd outside, he cautiously replied, “I assume it was a death threat that caused Nerys to hire me to personally look after you.”

“Oooh, does that make you like the Whitney Houston character with the bodyguard?” Rose pondered. “You know. Like in that Kevin Costner film.”

“Don’t think so,” Donna dismissed. “I haven’t got a sister to be the culprit, for a start.”

“What about that Keeley Hawes as that woman in the political thriller thing?” Rose tested out. 

“I have no power and am of no importance,” Donna countered. “Wouldn’t mind cosying up to Richard Madden though. But what would anyone achieve by blowing me up?”

“A part in our group,” Rose cheekily considered.

Donna laughed. “Now now. We all know Rory’s girlfriend Amy would love to stop being a top model to do this gig. Not. Anyway,” she said, leaning forward to briefly place a hand on John’s knee, “I’ve got a big strong man to protect me now.”

“Can you protect me too?” Rose sweetly asked him. 

Suddenly his clothing felt a little bit too hot and tight. 

As he opened his mouth to reply, Donna retorted, “Sorry. I don’t share my stuff when it’s a personal gift.”

“Not even when it’s me?” Rose pondered.

“Especially when it is you,” Donna jokily chided, causing them both to burst into laughter.

Don’t take any notice, John told himself. Their embarrassing giggles that caused his cheeks to blush soon left his mind when a male fan threw themselves against the taxi, banging against the nearby passenger window. 

The fan shrieked, “Donna!” on seeing them inside. 

Flinging himself protectively in front of her, John yelled at the driver, “Go! Get us out of here! Now!”

He felt himself begin to calm as the taxicab sped away, but the gentle hand that brushed against his neck as it landed on his shoulder made his heartrate stay high.

“It’s okay, John. It was just a fan,” Donna murmured into his ear. “Nothing to worry about.”

Gulping, he mentally berated himself for reacting to her touch. What had gotten into him? This should have been the easiest assignment imaginable. “I have to make sure you are safe,” he told her, moving backwards into his previous seat. “You can never be too careful.”

“I appreciate it,” she softly replied, but her words were spoken over by her friend.

“Didn’t throw yourself over me,” Rose grumbled. “I could have been attacked by anyone.”

“And yet you weren’t,” Donna scolded. “Never mind, perhaps your luck will be in tomorrow night.”

Wrinkling her nose, Rose sneered back at her. “As long as I get to use John instead of him bothering you, I’ll be fine.”

“Let go of my new boy?” Donna queried, reaching across to pat his leg. “Who do you take me for? Get your own.”

Rose gazed straight at him as she retorted, “Perhaps I will.”

John was quite relieved that their hotel loomed up at that moment. It meant they would be distracted by booking in. The next hurdle was finding out what the sleeping arrangements would be.

♫♪♫♪


	4. Chapter 4

“It doesn’t look too bad,” Donna commented as she led the way into the suite of rooms they’d been booked into for the next couple of days. Popping her head through each doorway, she announced what the individual rooms were.

For John it was much more impressive than the quality of room he’d last stayed in. As for the days when Kasterborous had been successful, it was all a blur, full of vaguely remembered place names rather than specific hotels or places. Apart from one particular singing trio who had shared the bill with them once. For some reason they were still crystal clear in his mind and were living up to the memory. 

Whilst he stood there thinking, Donna had called dibs on certain areas within the suite. “This will be my bedroom,” she declared, flinging herself down onto the huge bed within it. “What do you think? Can you manage to put up with me for now on?” she directly asked John, swivelling in her reclined position so that she could look at him through the open doorway.

“It’s my job,” he futilely answered. “I’m paid to protect you.”

“Yes, I know all that,” she retorted, “but what about ‘us’? You and me. Are you willing to be friends as well as co-workers?”

Beaming at her, he confidently replied, “We should be able to.” 

“I think I’m going to stay here and have a sleep. What are you going to do?” she asked, waiting to see if he’d blush again or not. 

To her surprise, he walked a few feet away, grabbed the chair at the desk, and dragged it until it was sat just outside her bedroom door. “This is where I’ll be, here outside your door, watching over you,” he informed her as he sat down. 

“What!” she exclaimed, clambering off the bed to reach him. “You can’t do that all night. What time does your relief bodyguard turn up?”

“I don’t… There isn’t another shift,” he informed her. “This is a twenty-four hour a day job.”

“You are kidding me!” she protested. “Everybody deserves some time off. In fact, I am insisting on it. Right now. There’s a perfectly good bed in the other bedroom for you to sleep in.”

But he shook his head. “I can’t guard you if I’m stuck in a bed.”

Didn’t that conjure up an interesting image? Him beneath the sheets. She quickly batted it away from her thoughts. “Do you see any marauding fans in this hotel suite?” she demanded, sweeping her hands about in demonstration. “No one is jumping in through the windows or storming the door. Not from where I’m standing. They’re all doing what decent people do at this time of night; they’re asleep in their beds. And you must be tired after working today, surely you must be,” she ended softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. “How about I ordered us some food? A quick snack because I haven’t seen you eat properly yet, and then we can get some decent sleep. Leave all the dangerous bits for tomorrow.”

Looking up her, he couldn’t help likening her to an angel in that moment as his hungry stomach rumbled. “That would be brilliant. Thank you.”

“Stage one of our friendship plan,” she lightly informed him as she picked up the suite telephone. “What do you fancy?”

That was a leading question. “Erm… steak, or something similar, please,” he requested.

♫♪♫♪

Their midnight feast didn’t go too badly. As they ate, they shared anecdotes about the people they knew in the music industry, and generally caught up on what they were currently doing.

“Don’t know about you but I needed that,” Donna commented, sitting back in her seat from her empty plate, feeling fully satisfied. 

Beside her, John grinned back. “It was lovely. Thank you.”

“From what you’ve said so far, you must miss being a full-time musician. How come you gave it up?” she asked, sipping from her glass of wine.

He drank from his own glass before answering. “There didn’t seem to be any work for me after Koschei died and Jack went solo. I still have friends in the business, of course, but it wasn’t the same. The work just dwindled away. Then I happened to help a nightclub owner fight off an assault one night, and he suggested I do this on a permanent basis. One thing led to another so here I am, here with you.”

“Sorry. Poor you,” she joked, “stuck with me. Although the next place we stay in won’t have this level of luxury. We have to make the most of it. You will be pleased to know that I’ll be sharing with Rose. You’ll get the chance to be as close to her as you like.”

Not sure how to react, he wondered, “How come you’re not sharing with Martha?”

“Ah,” she sighed, thinking he was keen to make a move in Martha’s direction too, “sorry, she’s going out with Mickey, and getting pretty serious too. She will be sharing with him.”

“Lucky man,” he commented, taking another sip. 

“And lucky her,” she felt it fair to say. “They’re good together. Is there such a person in your life?” 

This question had been inevitable, but its appearance still flummoxed him. “Erm… No. there’s no one.”

“No one?” She quirked an inquisitive eyebrow. “Then I shall have to help you with that, won’t I. If Rose isn’t willing, what sort of person should I find for you?” 

“You don’t have to do that. Honestly, you don’t,” he spluttered. 

“I know I don’t,” she near whispered, leaning closer, “but that wasn’t what I asked. Just tell me who you really want and then we can go to bed.”

“Bed!” he squeaked.

But she merely rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I’m not propositioning you; you prawn. I meant separate beds in separate rooms, d’uh! Never mind, you can tell me in the morning. Good night.”

“Night Donna,” he murmured as she stood up. “Don’t worry about the food trolley. I’ll wheel outside for them to collect.”

At the bedroom door, she stopped and turned to look at him. “Just a quick question: did you remember to bring your pyjamas?”

His eyes went wide in shock. “Why?” 

“Nothing. I have spares, if you don’t.”

That didn’t sound too bad. Not until it put the thought of her nightwear into his head. “I came prepared.”

“Good to know.” With a smirk playing about her lips, she left him with the words, “Sleep tight.”

♫♪♫♪


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** contains some angst but there'll be more in a chapter or two.

Donna woke up with a start, wondering what had interrupted her precious sleep, when she heard the distant sound of someone obviously having a nightmare. Quite a bad one, judging by his whimpering. Certainly one you couldn’t leave someone suffering with if you were half a decent person.

So she threw back the covers and left her bed, aiming for the other bedroom in the hotel suite. Once inside it, she easily spotted the prone form of John Smith, her latest bodyguard, in the throes of some imaginary agony. He’d managed to kick off most of his bedcover, leaving his bare chest on view. Quite a nice chest, she thought, with a pleasing smattering of hair; before she reminded herself she was there on a mission. 

“John. Sweetheart. You’re having a bad dream,” she gently informed him as she touched his shoulder to rouse him. “Come on, wake up.”

“What!” he blurted on seeing her looming over him. “Do you… Did we… What’s going on?”

“You were having a bad dream, so I came in to wake you out of it,” she softly told him, still bent over his body. “I thought you might appreciate escaping from your nightmare but if that’s the wrong thing to do, just tell me, and I’ll leave you be.”

Trying to sit up, he insisted, “No. That’s okay. I’m glad you woke me.” He rubbed a hand down his face before asking, “Was I very loud?”

Enough to wake the dead. “No, not terribly,” she replied to soothe him. “I just happened to have woken up myself so it’s no problem.”

“But you could hear me?” he warily asked. 

“My bed isn’t exactly on the other side of the world from you,” she joked, “near enough to hear you when everything is silent.”

“Oh. Thanks,” he murmured, now feeling rather embarrassed. 

Seeing the flush on his cheeks, she wanted to comfort him even more. “Do you want a hug?” As he went to deny the need, she continued moving closer. “I bet you do. I know I would. And this is stage two of our friendship plan,” she noted, wrapping her arms around his waist as she snuggled against his body, “rather than some sort of harassment.”

“Okay,” he whispered, enjoying this part of his dreams. “Can I hug you back?”

“Go on then, treat yourself,” she agreed. “Five minutes should do.”

Wasn’t all it was doing, he realised as he laid there with her flimsily clad body within his grasp. And if he pressed a small kiss onto her crown as he snuggled into her hair, that wasn’t bad, was it? Her warmth made hm feel safer and happier than he’d felt in a long time. “Thank you,” he whispered. 

“Any time for a friend,” she replied in a similar tone. Yet she was enjoying the encounter far too much in the circumstances; and so was he, judging by his bodily reaction. It could have unwanted consequences. Giving him a final squeeze, she shifted away. “Do you know what we need right now?” When he shook his head, she answered brightly, “Tea! We need a nice cup of tea.”

Before he could agree or deny the request, she was gone, out of his bed, leaving him with warring emotions that would not be easily tempered by a humble cup of tea. However, it was a first step forward, so he welcomed it.

♫♪♫♪

Not only did she prepare tea, she also ordered them breakfast from room service, so he had a quick invigorating shower before it arrived and was as fresh as a daisy by the time their food arrived.

“Did I order too much?” she wondered as he finished tucking in a full English breakfast. 

He eyed the fruits, croissants, and other items she’d got them. “Just a bit. I normally only have a bowl of cereal, but this is nice.”

“It also gets a bit boring after a while,” she commented. “All this soon stops feeling like a holiday, but you’ll be well aware of that. Sorry. At least I know what to get you tomorrow.”

“Donna, it’s fine. Don’t fret,” he said to wipe the worried look off her face. “Luckily, I could do with putting on some weight.”

“You’re not on drugs, are you?”

“Not anymore.” When she continued to frown at him, he continued, “That was a long time ago, when we were touring, and everyone seemed to be taking stuff. I don’t touch anything dodgy now. Honest.”

She had to reassure herself he was okay by placing a hand on his arm, feeling him solid and alive. “Glad to hear it. You don’t want to poison yourself like that.”

“Instead, I’ll just let you feed me up until I burst, shall I?” he teased, and gained the swat on the arm he’d expected. Laughing, he added, “You wouldn’t be the first to try. For some reason, women tend to want to feed me.”

“Can’t think why,” she pretended to grumble. It gained another of his heart-melting smiles that did things to her. “But weirdly enough, I feel responsible for looking after you.”

He merely shrugged. “Seems reasonable considering I’m looking after you.”

“Stage three of our friendship plan,” she suggested, and they both nodded. “Talking of friendship, I need to contact Martha about later.”

Now all business-like, she got up and disappeared into her bedroom. After a few minutes, she reappeared in the doorway, looking pensive.

John was shutting the door, having to pushed out the food trolley into the outside corridor, as she requested, “Can I borrow your phone for a minute?”

Reaching into his jacket pocket for it, he asked, “Why?”

“Mine seems to have gone off with the fairies,” she explained, accepting his offered phone. “I’ll quickly use yours to ring it so that I can hunt it down.”

“Oh. Okay,” he agreed, suddenly realising that it would given him access to her personal phone number without much effort on his part. 

A couple of seconds later a dull tune began to play, and they soon won ‘hunt the phone’. It was beneath a pile of clothing. 

“Thanks,” she said, about to hand the phone back. “Who’s that as your screensaver?” 

Gazing down at the screen to remind himself, he responded, “Ah, that’s Maxie.”

“Cute. I love dogs,” she commented, still holding the phone to get a better look. 

“I have more photos of him if you want to see.”

“I’d love to,” she enthused, and silently sought permission to look through his photo gallery. “Aww, he’s adorable,” she crooned. “Wish I still had a dog. Oh look! You took a photo backstage yesterday too.”

Blushing, he held out a hand to get his phone back. “Just wanted to note the moment and show Mum. You know how it is.”

“I do,” she agreed. “Do you want to take a photo of us two together to show her?” she then offered. 

Would he! “Yes, of course,” he blustered hesitantly, his cheeks going a bright red. 

“Or would you rather wait until you’re with Rose again?” she hesitantly wondered, thinking that might be the true reason for the blush. “Probably best that you do,” she considered when he didn’t make a move to attempt a pose. “Well erm, I’ll make us a cup of tea.”

“I do want a photo with you,” he forced out, sounding like a right berk in the process. “Honest. Mum’ll be thrilled to know I met you.”

‘Are you sure you do?’ she silently queried; and then tried to dismiss the thought from her mind. Instead, she faked a smile at his phone as he held it aloft.

His smile looked just as false as he thanked her for the photo. “That should do it.”

“Tea!” she announced and moved over to the long countertop that doubled as a desk where the in-room kettle sat. “And you can tell me more about what you’ve been doing since you left Kasterborous and became a bodyguard.”

♫♪♫♪


	6. Chapter 6

John wanted to kick himself. How on earth had he managed to mess up taking that selfie with Donna? It should have been a highlight of his day, but instead he had almost completely ruined their relationship by being awkward. 

Okay, he wasn’t completely sure if she was truly interested in him or just teasing most of the time, but he knew whatever it was also softened the harshness of the nightmare experience and was bringing them slowly together. Whether that would be platonically or romantically, well, only time could tell. But he liked the feeling she caused in him. It promised to chase away his inner demons, or at least keep them at bay for a while. 

What this needed was some positivity from him. As of now. So he gave a cough to catch her attention, and then made his request. “Can we do another one for Mum, over by the window?” He held his phone up to demonstrate it was another photo he wanted in case she misunderstood his intentions. 

“What, get this fancy hotel room in the background, you mean?” she queried. She glanced around the living area they were sat in, noting it was worth boasting about. “Yeah, alright.” She walked over to the large ornate window to stand with him. “How do you want me?” 

“We’ll have to get closer if I want to show off lots of the room,” he reasoned, wrapping an arm around her waist to position them in the corner of the screen. “Think thoughts of what you are going to feed me with next.”

As he grinned down at her, she retorted, “You cheeky…!” And prodded him in the stomach. “Just for that, I shall make it my mission to get you to put on at least a stone. I’ll aim for twenty pounds.” 

“Can’t see it happening,” he giggled, giving out a squeal when she tickled him. “Hang on, I’m trying to take a photo here.”

“Then get on with it,” she huffed, but soon laughed when he tickled her side in return. 

“Thanks for doing that. Mum should love seeing them.”

“Let’s see what you’ve taken,” she requested once they were sat down again, sitting side by side on the plush cream velvet sofa. Swiping through the images, she was surprised to see he’d taken loads. “Blimey! I wasn’t expecting this many.” A few of the poses caught her attention. “A bit incriminating, don’t you think?”

“How?” he wondered, taking back the phone to look himself. “It’s just us laughing,” he commented as he perused shot after shot of them happily staring at each other. Any of the photos could have been a loving couple, usable for bragging rights at the very least, should this gig go pear-shaped. “Nothing overly bad,” he maintained. “Not like it could have been if I’d taken them when we were in bed this morning.”

“Yes. Well,” she spluttered, suddenly feeling hot. “That was different. And still only a cuddle,” she argued.

He gazed at her, loving the crimson flush now covering her freckled skin. If only he could kiss her, his traitorous heart thought. “I’m sure Mum would understand.”

“She’d understand, all right,” Donna scoffed. “She’d understand in completely the wrong direction.”

“Then I shall keep them just for me,” John declared, hugging the phone to his chest. Under her beady eye, he quickly tacked on, “In a completely… you know… friendly stage three sort of a way.”

“Don’t you mean stage two,” she corrected. 

“Nope,” he crowed. “Stage three was me protecting you, and vice versa.”

“Alright, you’ve got me there,” she allowed. “But don’t go awarding yourself any points.”

“Wouldn’t dare,” he lied. 

“Give over,” she playfully grumbled, giving him a tiny shove. “Time to get our bums in gear and find out where and when we’ve got to go.”

Still grinning with amusement, he sat watching her make a call to Martha and then their agent, Nerys.

♫♪♫♪

“Morning!” Rose trilled as soon as she saw them at the lift doors. She immediately got into step with Donna as they walked along together. “How did your night alone with your new handsome friend go?”

“Shut up, Rose!” Donna hissed in warning and then walked more determinedly towards their waiting car. 

Rose easily caught her up and she had a point to make. “No, I won’t. You’re being unusually cagey. What’s come over you?”

“Nothing,” Donna answered, trying to sound nonchalant. “Nothing happened so you can stop the twenty questions”

But Rose wasn’t convinced. Not in the slightest. “You’re hiding something. Did you throw yourself on him? Oh Donna, you have got to stop doing that sort of thing. Blokes don’t like it.”

“I know!” Donna protested. “Keep your hair on. I didn’t do anything too stupid.”

“What about a little bit stupid?” Rose saucily wondered. “I bet you were tempted.”

“Geroff!” Donna chided, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. So what if she’d been tempted? She wasn’t daft enough to admit it when he was within hearing distance, was she. That’d be shaming, to put herself where she could be publicly rejected, yet again. 

Standing behind them, waiting patiently for them to finish walking to the car and actually get in, John tried to pretend he hadn’t heard a word. 

He managed to stay quiet during the journey to the concert, but as they pulled up outside the stage door, Rose made an observation that chilled him.

Turning her head quickly to follow a movement, Rose noted, “There’s that bloke again.” 

“What bloke?” Donna immediately asked, trying to see who her friend meant.

“The one that threw himself on the car window yesterday. Anyway, he’s gone now,” Rose sighed, bored with the subject. “He was probably only taking a photo or something.”

But John’s senses were on high alert. Something about this didn’t feel right. “Did he have a backpack?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Rose replied, “but I don’t think so.”

“Keep close to me,” he whispered to Donna as she climbed out of the car, before making their way into the venue.

“As nice as that sounds, I do have to do a little thing like get up on stage and sing without you at some point,” she teased. 

“I’m not joking,” he growled. “This could be dangerous.”

“Okay John,” she soberly answered. If he was this worried, it was worth the extra cautiousness. She let him stay as close as he wanted.

♫♪♫♪


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** dedicated to my lovely friend [Shivver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shivver/pseuds/Shivver)

As she watched John anxiously pace backwards and forwards, checking items as he went, Donna continued to think there was something deeper than pride in your job affecting his actions. But to actually ask him without seeming to delight in his past trauma? This would need careful handling. 

“Is there anything different I should be doing?” she tried to ask helpfully.

“No. Just go about your business in the normal way.” He checked the window in her dressing room for the umpteenth time as he replied, “I can do my job better that way.”

“It looks exhausting,” she noted. “Can’t you have a tiny break and come have a coffee or something with us?”

“No time for relaxing,” he snapped. “That’s when you are most vulnerable.” 

“Might as well put me in a see-through bullet proof box at this rate,” she commented. “Come on, John. Terrorists must have tea breaks too.”

“You go on ahead. Don’t let me stop you getting a drink.” 

He flinched when she suddenly placed a hand on his arm to halt his movements. “I’d be breaking stage three of our friendship plan if I did that,” she gently pointed out. “Plus, I hear there might be some doughnuts I can use to feed you with.”

Her concerned smile calmed his worried thoughts. “Alright. I’ll come to make sure you stay safe.” 

“My hero,” she joked, but there was hardly any humour in her words this time. Not like there usually was. “I bet you’ve been able to save loads of people.”

“Not always,” he murmured, thinking she hadn’t heard. 

It would take for them to be somewhere completely safe and detached from the moment for him to open up about his past, so she quietly resolved to be the listening ear he needed when the time was right. Instead, she took his hand and started to lead him away as she mused, “You know, I’ve been thinking. I bet you would feel happier if you were able to be closer in order to protect me. Perhaps do the full bodyguard bit onstage.” 

“I would,” he readily agreed, “but that isn’t possible.”

“Isn’t it?” She grinned mischievously at him. “Not even for a seasoned musician like yourself?” 

“I… I don’t play anymore,” he blustered. 

“Come off it! You must miss playing your guitar in front of an audience and would love to see if it still felt the same.”

“Well, yes, I do,” he reluctantly agreed. 

“And I bet you could still play bass guitar with your eyes shut, it’s that natural,” she argued, “which would leave your other senses able to keep a decent lookout.” 

For a moment she thought he’d cave and agree to her scheme, but he inevitably shook his head in denial. “A lovely thought. Thank you, Donna but I’m not paid to prance about on stage anymore.” 

That prancing about had earned him a considerable living, once upon a time. “Never mind. Worth a thought,” she pleasantly assured him, “if the need ever arose.” 

But his wistful expression had not escaped her attention. A little word in private with Mickey might be on the cards.

♫♪♫♪

“What _is_ he doing?” Martha pondered as she sat herself down next to Donna and took a sip of her hot coffee. “Lost something in particular?”

“Whatever it is, he won’t find it in there,” Donna replied. “To be honest, he’s on extra alert because a man was acting suspiciously outside when we arrived.”

Martha continued to watch John examine the perimeter of the room they were sat in. “Sorry you’ve got to go through all this. When do you think this will be all over?”

“When John dies from boredom or old age, at this rate,” Donna answered. “I have no idea how long these threats will last. It could be months, he tells me, before they catch the culprit.”

“That’s grim.” Martha suitably winced. “He certainly doesn’t look like the usual beefy bodyguards we get. Do you think he can fight someone off if you’re attacked?”

“I’m hoping I never have to find out, but he should be up to the job. He’s been very thorough so far.”

“Here, you’ve not got a thing for him, have you?” Martha teased, with a nudge of her shoulder. 

“Not you too,” Donna sighed. “I’ve had Rose on at me, partly because I’m sure she’s got her eye on him.”

“Can’t say I blame her,” Martha quietly agreed. “He must brighten your day.”

“Well…” It struck Donna that it was completely wrong to continue watching him in that way. “We’ve had a good laugh together.”

“Oh?”

“Not like that!” Donna defended their actions, feeling her cheeks blaze. “We’re friends.” 

“A bit quick to say you’re friends, surely,” Martha commented. “You’ve only known him a couple of days.”

“And yet that’s long enough for you to say I have other ideas about him,” Donna reasoned. 

But Martha shrugged, unrepentant. “Sexual attraction is fairly instantaneous, but proper friendship takes a while to develop.”

“Good job I’m not after him for sex then,” Donna retorted, and of course that was the precise moment John lifted his head to look directly at them. She immediately gave him an embarrassed little wave. 

What she didn’t need was Martha whispering, “Just think, you could be friends AND with benefits. But if you don’t want him, send him my way.”

“Martha! You’ve got Mickey. Behave.” 

Right on cue, Mickey sauntered in and sat himself down beside Martha. Seeing their shared look, he immediately demanded, “What have I done wrong now?”

“Nothing, love,” Donna said as she got up to give them some privacy. “Just been the same old gorgeous you.”

His eyes narrowed. “What are you after? You must be after something from me if you are giving out compliments.”

“Well, since you’ve brought it up, I might have a small favour to ask.” She then flicked her gaze meaningfully in John’s direction. “I know a talented musician in need of a gig…”

♫♪♫♪


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Hurt/Comfort Prompt:** forced to uncover a past trauma.  
>  **A/N:** here comes the angst

The look on his face! Donna couldn’t stop herself from seeking his gaze out as she sung on stage behind Rose blasting out a number. Mickey had turned up trumps by finding not only a bass guitar to borrow but a spare pair of trousers to give John a stage costume. 

Of course, he had made it a little hard for her to coax him onto the stage during the concert. “What do I do if someone lunges forward?” he queried.

“Hit them with the guitar. That should make them think for a while,” she had retorted. 

“What if I don’t know the chords?” he’d tried instead.

“Are you telling me that you still don’t know how our songs go? Pft!” she’d scoffed. “I’m sure you could do those chords in your sleep. Or make them up as you go along. A professional like you will know exactly what to do, so stop worrying!”

“But these trousers…,” he began to whine, pointing down at the jazzy costume on his lower half. The top half had been dealt with by removing his prim jacket and opening a few buttons of his crisp white shirt to reveal his chest. “Don’t you think they look a bit unprofessional?”

“Not from where I’m standing,” she countered, standing back to admire their work. Not quite the sexy leather trousers he used to wear but it was close. “You look just the part. Honest you do. It’ll be like riding a bike, going out there, but without the potential to fall off, obviously.”

After that, he’d let her lead him onto the stage whilst Mickey had introduced him as their guest performer from Kasterborous. The roar of delight from the crowd had been amazing. John had beamed at Donna as soon as he’d played a few chords and glorified in the cheer it gained. 

At the end of the set, he was sweating buckets but as pleased as Punch. On the last chord, he reached forward to hug Donna in gratitude. “I needed that,” he whispered. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” she told him, changing their embrace to a side by side one to walk back to the dressing room. “There’s nothing like playing some music to ease anxiety.”

“Soothe the savage beast, eh?” he teased.

“Something like that,” she agreed. 

“If you two have finished flirting, we have fans waiting for autographs outside,” Rose chivvied them. “And don’t go having a shower together either.”

John frantically informed Donna, “I don’t… I wasn’t….”

“It’s okay,” she calmly spoke. “Rose is just teasing us. You know the drill about getting cleaned up. Do you want to do that in my dressing room or the boys?”

Mickey grinned at them as he eased passed. John waited until he was out of earshot before answering, “I think it would be safer if I stayed with you.”

“Come on then, Mr Bodyguard,” she said with a sideways jerk of her head, “your fandom awaits.” As they entered the dressing room, she warned, “And no nicking all the towels!”

He happily replied, “Yes, Donna.”

♫♪♫♪

They took it in turns to wash, managing to dodge any emotional bullet as they did so, maintaining an efficient façade. But his anxiety threatened to reappear. “Do you mind if I hold onto your hand while we do the stage door stuff?”

“A bit hard to sign anything,” she commented. “Wouldn’t hurt as we get to the car,” she added, making him feel more relieved. “Oh and, here’s a pen, because I know blokes are notoriously bad at having one on them.”

When he thanked her, it wasn’t just for the pen.

♫♪♫♪

“That went pretty well, don’t you think?” Rose asked her travelling companions. John was too busy being on guard to do anything but nod, but Donna was willing to continue the conversation. “I hadn’t expected that reaction.”

“John was amazing,” Donna gushed. “I’m so pleased loads of members of the crowd remembered him.”

“Shows people don’t forget,” Rose agreed. “Are we all meeting up for dinner later?”

“I’m game,” Donna said. “And where I go, John has to follow. Poor bloke.”

“He must be gutted having to trail after you,” Rose teased. “Just think, he could have the delights of me.”

“If you feel that strongly about it, you’d better have a word with Nerys,” Donna countered. The car was approaching a space in front of their hotel. “I’m sure she’d love to hear.”

Rose snorted her scorn. “Nerys is only interested in how much money I can earn her. In fact... What is that boy doing?” she loudly wondered, peering out the window.

A young lad had broken through the crowd on the pavement outside their hotel and raced into the road, right in front of the cab. Inside, John’s instincts had him on high alert as he moved to attack. The driver braked sharply to avoid hitting the teen and John instantly jumped out to investigate. 

It didn’t help that the boy was wearing a dark hooded top that hung low over his face, making it hard to see his features. Then he did the really stupid thing of lunging towards the passenger car door whilst shouting, “Donna!” a few times. 

His voice was soon muffled by having his arm wrenched behind him, head down. John had him instantly wedged up against the side panel of the taxi by the throat, ready to strike harder if necessary. 

“What are you trying to do?!” John demanded.

The lad stammered, “Nothing. I just wanted to talk to Donna.”

“Who are you?” John then snarled. 

“Donna!” the teen called out instead of answering properly, having seen her get out of the car and edge towards them. “Donna, I…”

He didn’t get to say anymore because John tightened his grip and started to haul him away. 

“Don’t hurt him!” Donna begged, placing her arm protectively between John’s body and the boy. “Please don’t strangle him.” 

“Donna,” the lad croaked, “did you get the letter?”

“What letter?” she inevitably asked. 

“They said they were sending you a letter,” he forced out.

“Sorry, I don’t know anything about a letter,” she explained. “Things like that go through my agent first. I’m sure Nerys would have told me if it was important. What did you have to so desperately tell me?”

Pulling his hood completely back, he gazed up at her from under John’s firm grip. She saw pale grey eyes under a dark ginger fringe. Eyes that seemed so familiar. But his news shook every thought out of her head.

“I think you’re my mum,” he stated. 

“What!” She staggered backwards, reeling with emotion. Luckily, Rose caught her before she could hit the ground. 

There was no denial, so John let go enough to haul the boy onto his feet. “What makes you think you are related?” he queried. 

“Because of what it says on my birth certificate. D’uh!” the lad answered. 

Okay, that sounded possibly true, so John looked to Donna for his cue. 

“What… How old are you? When’s your birthday?” she gasped. 

“I’m eighteen, and my birthday is the fifteenth of February,” he replied, petulantly adjusting the fall of his hoodie. “I’m called Callum by the way, since you didn’t ask,” he aimed towards John. 

“You don’t look eighteen,” Rose commented, because he could easily have been mistaken for someone younger. 

“Nor do you,” Callum countered.

“Oh gawd. He even sounds like me,” Donna whispered. “Can we… John, can we take this inside? To my room, perhaps. Or somewhere else.”

John nodded. No way was he going to leave her to face this on her own.

♫♪♫♪


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Hurt/Comfort Prompt:** forced to uncover a past trauma  
>  **A/N:** the rest of the angst follows...  
>  **A/N2:** : How I envision Callum -
> 
>   
>  picture posted by [oceanar](http://oceanar.tumblr.com/post/46877592586)

They had briefly sat with Callum in the plush seats of the lobby, making sure to gain his contact details before putting him into a paid taxi with promises to talk properly during daylight hours. Throughout it all, Donna had been rather numb, smiling as best she could each time their gazes met, but all she wanted to do was escape to sob her heart out. She knew she would need to do that before dealing with her son’s emotional bomb. And she felt no guilt in letting John handle the practical arrangements. Especially when he insisted they make their way up to bed.

The blandness of the hotel bedroom seemed a counterpoint to the heightened emotion in front of him. John stood helplessly whilst Donna paced up and down, tears streaming down her cheeks as she sought to find the words to tell him about her current situation. “Before I see him, I have to explain because this is bizarre.”

“Why don’t you sit down?” he kindly suggested. “I’ll find some tissues.” He disappeared into the bathroom and soon returned with a box of tissues and a roll of toilet paper, just in case. He placed them on the bedside table, right where she now sat on the bed. “Do you want some water?” 

“No.” She shook her head and sniffed loudly. “You must think I’m such an idiot. Not knowing I had a son out there. An eighteen-year-old son. Walking and breathing, being all clever, tracking me down like that.”

“No, I don’t,” he assured her. 

“Sit down. You’re making the place look untidy,” she ordered, so he sat beside her, ready to offer support. “Will this affect our careers, do you think?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Does motherhood normally ruin singing careers?”

“It does when it’s treated like some huge secret like mine was,” she whimpered. She raised her tear-filled eyes to plead for forgiveness and understanding from him. “I was only sixteen when I found out I was pregnant. Sixteen! That’s nothing but at the time I felt so old. And Mum was so annoyed with me. Livid. She did nothing but rant and rave at me for being so stupid. Who in their right mind gets pregnant at sixteen, ruining her chances, wiping away every single opportunity to be something? She wasn’t going to let me throw my life away on some useless piece of scum.”

“Is that what she said?” he gently asked, gaining a nod. “What about the father?”

She wrung out another tissue. “He never knew. I wasn’t allowed to tell him, let alone see him again. Not that I was keen to. I was well shot of him.”

“Why didn’t you have an abortion?”

“I was too far gone,” she admitted. “Too terrified to tell anyone why I was putting on weight, I tried covering it all up, wearing big jumpers, that sort of thing. And I don’t think I could have gone through with an abortion anyway. So, it was decided that the baby would be adopted as soon as it was born. All nicely tucked away, so that Mum couldn’t complain.” 

He wasn’t surprised when she began to weep again. But he was surprised that she let him wrap her up in a hug. “Did you get to see him when he was born?”

She nodded against his shoulder. “For a bit. Almost two days.”

Her gentle sobs instantly became racking sobs, so he held her closer, cooing soft words of comfort as he swayed her body. But when she wailed, “They took my baby!” his heart broke for her. “Have you any idea what it is like to lose a child? To have that pain and guilt tearing at your very soul?”

After pausing to gain himself, he confessed, “I do. I lost my daughter.”

“Daughter?” she echoed. “You had a daughter? I didn’t know that. What happened?”

“The joke is, I never even knew she existed until the mother tried to sell her story to the papers,” he bitterly began. “Can’t say I remember hooking up with her at all, despite the photographs she produced of us together. I was a bit out of it on drugs at the time.” He gave a regretful small shrug. “Anyway. I had a beautiful little girl for a while. We were going... I had promised a trip to London Zoo, took her on the Underground for fun, because she was mad on trains; and then a terrorist decided to blow the train up.”

“The London bombings,” she quietly noted in horror. “I remember that day. Oh John. How awful. I’m so sorry.” 

“Yes. Well,” he declared on a sob. “I should have stopped him.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she insisted.

He ignored that. It was too painful to argue about, let alone give voice to the horrific images in his memory, but at least it was now a shared grief. “You don’t realise you’re lucky. You have been handed the chance to try again, to spend precious time with your baby.”

“You’re right,” she agreed, giving her nose another blow with a tissue. Her baby was alive, and that fact had to be celebrated, for her sake as well as John’s. “I can’t turn back the clock, but I can try to fix things. Will you come with me to see him?”

“Of course,” he easily agreed, hugging her close again. “Tomorrow, we will arrange everything. I promise.”

♫♪♫♪


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** do I let the rating go up? Hmm.

Staring up at the ceiling, Donna knew she would need help to sleep and calm her racing thoughts. It seemed inevitable, somehow, so she scrambled out of bed and walked into the lounge of her hotel suite. 

“Couldn’t you sleep either?” John asked as he strolled in, clad only in pyjama trousers. 

“Bit of a problem,” she admitted, taking in his almost bare torso on view and the intimacy of them being in their nightwear. “Perhaps a drink will help us nod off. What can I get you?” She stooped to open the mini refrigerator in invitation. “Or would you prefer room service?”

“Not sure if I could eat enough to force some poor soul in the kitchen to cook at this time of the night,” he considered. “I’ll have a whisky, please.”

“In that case, I’m having a gin and tonic,” she declared, “with ice and a slice.”

“Cheers,” they both thrilled, chinking glasses as they sat down on a settee together and took a long sip of their drink. 

“Been a while since I did this sort of thing,” he commented.

♫♪♫♪

They were on their third drink when their carefully constructed walls of defence crumbled away, and they relaxed even further into an intimate relationship, nicely mellowed. It was easy to slump together, sharing snippets of their lives. Family, career choices and the topic of exes loomed up.

Donna had allowed herself the luxury of cuddling up against John’s body. Her friend. Her brand-new best friend, who now knew all her festering secrets. Well, except one. 

“It hurt,” she whispered into his neck.

Unsure what she was going on about, he sleepily queried, “Hmm? What did?”

“When we… It really hurt. ‘Go on, you’d let me touch you if you loved me’ he’d said. All the old bumph. Before I know what was happening, he stuck it in me, and I screamed. He told me to shut up and stop spoiling it. Selfish prat. I’ve hated sex ever since. Can’t stand the thought of it and getting pregnant again. Not until I’m safely married or something.”

“That’s understandable,” he agreed. “You couldn’t have had a worse experience.”

“Depends if you read the Daily Mail,” she darkly joked. 

His mind tried to process this new information: she didn’t like sex. What else did it cover? “I thought you were engaged when we shared the same bill, but you never got married. Was it the bad and hateful sex that stopped you?”

She tried to shrug nonchalantly against his chest. “My fiancé ran off with someone else, so it certainly stopped him. I never got to find out if I’d like it later on.”

“Excuse my French but he is an arsehole. What a wanker,” he spat. “You’re better off without him.” He shifted uncomfortably as a thought struck him. “Do you have any aversions against kissing?”

She lifted her head off him. “No. Why?”

“Just wondered.”

“Just wondered?” she questioned. “Seems an odd thing to suddenly ask about.”

“Well. You must have had men who want to kiss you, and vice versa,” he argued.

“Must I? Why’s that?” she teased. “Men only fancy an image, not the real person beneath it all.”

“That’s not true,” he defended.

“Oh yeah? Says him who said he fancied ‘the blonde one’ the other day. You didn’t even know Rose’s name,” she countered. 

“Did I? Oh. I suppose I did,” he blustered. “That’s because I’d forgotten her name.”

Now curious, she asked, “Did you remember my name?”

“Of course I did. There’s no way I’d forget you,” he stressed.

She immediately sat up properly to face him, keen to find out more. “Why’s that? And do I want to know?”

“It’s for good reasons,” he quickly assured her. “Nothing bad. Unless you don’t like…”

Quirking an eyebrow, she pressed for information. “Unless I don’t like what? Tell me.”

The best way to explain would be by showing her, so he reached a hand to tenderly cup her cheek. “This.”

“It’s not inherently bad,” she noted. “Depends what you follow it with.” Seeing him hesitate as he drew closer, she offered, “I’m guessing you want...” 

She placed a sweet but brief kiss upon his lips. A taste that was as tempting as it was forbidden.

“Would that be wrong?” he asked.

“It is a bit, but I don’t expect anything to come of it,” she assured him, “and I suspect we both need this right now.” 

“This being?” 

“Just a kiss and cuddle.” 

Just as he had expected. “Then I can work with that.”

“This isn’t supposed to be work, you prawn,” she chided.

“Definitely not. Tonight has been rather different,” he carefully voiced.

“What, you don’t normally attack your client’s long-lost child and then end up confessing what your nightmares are about at some point before drinking into the small hours?”

“I never said…,” he started to query, but she was right about his nightmares. After she glared meaningfully at him, he admitted, “Okay, I sort of did. It wasn’t hard for you to guess.”

She shook her head. “What was her name?”

“Jenny,” he brokenly supplied.

“How lovely,” she complimented. “No doubt she was as pretty as her name.”

He couldn’t say anything but, “Yes.”

“To Jenny,” she proposed, swigging down her drink. 

“To Jenny. And Callum,” he added. He then took a deep gulp of his own glassful.

She watched him with interest. “You know, when you do that kind of thing, you’re sort of perfect. Stop doing it.” 

Feeling much more daring as the warmth of the whisky hit his stomach, he wondered, “Or what?”

“Or I’ll kiss you again,” she answered. 

“Oh no. How awful,” he cheekily pretended to grumble. “Can’t have that happen, can I?”

“It’d be dreadful,” she agreed, easing forward. “Whatever would come of it? As long as I’m not just a distraction.”

“You could never be ‘just’ anything, let alone a distraction,” he murmured and closed the distance between them.

Her eyes raked over his body with approval, her gaze silently giving him permission to let go of the tight resolve he still held on to. Would it really be wrong to give in? When she wanted if not needed him, when his own body had craved her from afar for many years and now keenly desired to be more than a casual acquaintance. They were both adults who could deal with any fallout from this encounter in a professional way even though his job and reputation were on the line. 

But her body was beneath his caress, the swell of her breasts pushed against his sensitive skin, and her arms were wrapped around his shoulders, allowing him to willingly worship her mouth and other soft delights. Wouldn't it be worth it just to taste her for one night? Nothing else, just pretend for a few short hours she was his, and that was all he needed in life.

Overpowered by her presence, he could only give in and let the consequences take him wherever they wanted. 

He had the woman he loved in his arms and nothing else mattered beyond expressing that sentiment.

♫♪♫♪


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** posted without a proper read through - sorry.

It was her phone ringing that woke Donna up. She blindly threw out a hand to grab it in order to answer the call. “Hello,” she blearily queried. 

“Donna, there you are,” the voice of Martha greeted her. “We were worried when you didn’t come to dinner last night or showed up for breakfast. Are you alright?”

“I erm… I’m fine,” Donna replied, forcing herself to sit up. “I’ve just woken up,” she admitted and only then realised there was someone else in the bed with her. No, she hadn’t, had she?! With horror, she gazed at the slow smile plastered across John’s face as he snuggled into her side. “What do you know?”

“Not much. Rose told us you met your son last night, but we don’t know what happened after that,” Martha supplied. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Donna loved the concern her dear friend was showing, but it was also a little bit intrusive in that moment. Should she tell all? “I will be. Had a bit of a cry, you know, and had trouble sleeping but John was here to keep me company.” Did a bit more than that, but she wouldn’t give out that information just yet. It was a possible tale for later. 

“That’s good,” Martha said with relief. “At least you weren’t on your own.”

“I’ll come down and bring you up to date with things once I’ve washed and dressed,” Donna promised. “See you in a mo. Bye.” 

“Good morning,” John crooned, reaching up to kiss her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit confused,” she admitted, placing the phone down. “Trying to remember everything that happened last night.”

“Oh?” He sat up more to half embrace her. “Which bits are you having trouble with?”

“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered. 

“Ah,” he sadly exclaimed, and shifted his body completely away. “Sorry. I didn’t intend it to happen. It just sort of did.” He swung his legs out, over the edge of the bed as he informed her, “I’ll find my pyjama trousers and then go get ready for the day. No need to worry about any of this.”

“What do you mean?” she fearfully asked. “And you’re naked!” she tacked on as he walked away.

He half turned in the doorway, so as not to offend her by flashing his body. “Before you fret, we didn’t have sex nor did I sexually assault you. We didn’t do much beyond kiss but no doubt you have questions, so I’ll answer them once we are both dressed. Is that okay?”

“Okay,” she mumbled.

“Then I’ll see you in a few minutes,” he said and walked as quickly as his dignity would allow him into his own bathroom. 

Once there, he turned the shower on to warm up, and rubbed a hand down his face in horror. What should he do now? Did she remember anything that they’d said and done? Was she going to deny it happened? How would he cope if she gave him the cold shoulder from now on? “Fuck,” he despondently repeated to himself as all the possible consequences hit him.

♫♪♫♪

She was blow-drying her hair when he re-entered the lounge fully dressed. He sat himself down near enough to her to offer support, should she need it, but far away enough to avoid being an easy target should she lash out. As he gazed at her reflection in the mirror she was using, it was hard to tell what exactly her current mood was, apart from calm control. Things could go in any direction.

Waiting until she switched the hairdryer off, he announced his willingness to talk. “You had some questions you wanted to ask me.”

“Yes, I did.” She turned on her seat to regard him. “Why were you in bed with me?”

“Because you invited me in. In fact, you led me in.” He’d decided to follow her tone with this conversation and keep things simple. 

She tried and failed to find the right words for a moment or two. “I was drunk.”

“You were too upset to eat, so the alcohol would have hit you quite quickly,” he commented.

“And what about you?” 

“I hadn’t eaten either. It was quite an emotional night.”

Okay. That sounded right to her and dredged up a certain memory. “You mentioned your daughter. So sad about her,” she commiserated. “I’m not sure how that led to us kissing.”

“These things tend to happen only if you want them to,” he admitted. “Do you feel bad about it?”

“I don’t know yet.” She adjusted the fit of her clothing for a second or two before asking in a small voice, “Did we really do all that snogging stuff in my bed?”

If he thought about it for too long, he’d start having a few physical problems, he suddenly realised, but he would have to risk her reaction in order to think about their actions. “We did. We went as far as we could without actually doing… _it_.”

“Most men wouldn’t have stopped there,” she noted.

“Most men don’t know or don’t care about your hatred of sex,” he added, to show how much intimacy they had attained. “I also care about your feelings, now, this minute.”

“You risked your job for me,” she realised. 

He nodded in acceptance. “So what do you want me to do now, Donna? Do you want me to behave differently, as if we had never done anything? Or do you want me gone?”

“Gone?” She flinched in horror. “I don’t want you to go. But you’re not allowed to have a meaningful relationship with me. I’m your client.”

“Then I’ll respect your wishes,” he said, fighting down the bile that wanted to rise up into his throat. “Last night was an alternate universe.”

They both stood up, with the intention of heading downstairs, but Donna had one more question burning in her mind. “Was kissing me just a passing fancy?”

His expression softened as he gazed down at her. “Kissing you could never be just a passing fancy for me. One day I hope you will let me prove that, but I understand why you don’t believe me.”

When he didn’t attempt to kiss her but strolled away instead, in self-defence, she felt a familiar pang in her heart. It was regret but she couldn’t force herself to grab him. That never went well for her, so she meekly followed him out of the room.

♫♪♫♪


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** should be back to the band in the next part.

“There they are, at long last,” they were greeted with as they entered the hotel restaurant and approached the table The Companions had commandeered. Mickey stood to give John a brief hug, quickly followed by Rory, whilst the girls enveloped Donna in a protective embrace.

“Come and have something to eat with us,” Rory offered. “You must be starving.”

Donna let herself be eased down onto a chair. “Just a bit. Although I think John is suffering more than me. Throw him an extra sandwich.”

They all laughed at the familiar tease. She had suggested smuggling John out a bag of sandwiches on previous occasions. Her tone wasn’t malicious, merely concerned about his thinness. 

“I’m fine,” John insisted, waving off the joke. In all honesty, he was relieved she was back to this normal level of teasing. “But I could do with a decent meal right now.”

Mickey immediately called over the waitress, who had been hovering anxiously nearby, to take their order. Not that Mickey took any notice, because he was used to staff being awestruck around them. It was all part of the job. He let Donna and John order some food and then added hot drinks for them all.

“So… What’s the plan for today?”

“We need to rehearse the new choreography for the third song-”

“Why do we need new choreography?” Donna interrupted Rose. “Has something gone wrong with the one we had?”

“Not exactly.” Rose then glanced meaningfully at Mickey to give him his cue.

“More of a joint decision,” Rory started to explain, “since we…”

“That’s mainly me and Rory but these two agreed,” Mickey continued, “that we would like to ask John up on stage again. So, what do you say, John? Are you willing to be our new member?”

“It can be on a temporary basis, if you like,” Rory persuaded him, “and decide the rest later.” 

For his part, John was rather flummoxed. He had definitely not expected this to happen. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Of course, we will contact Nerys immediately and make sure you get properly paid,” Martha added. “We will do it all above board.”

“What about the bodyguarding?” Donna softly queried. “Would I have to get a new bloke?”

“Hopefully all that extra security won’t be needed anymore,” Rose commented. “I mean, all that stalking or threatening business was probably your son.”

They all seemed to agree with this, but what if it had nothing to do with him? Donna gazed anxiously at John to see how to react. 

“We will soon find out,” he cautiously said. “For now, I’d like to combine the two.”

Donna’s smile of relief didn't last long because Martha suddenly asked, “When were you going to talk to him again?” 

“I was going to give him a call later,” Donna supplied, “but I had better learn this new dance routine first.”

“In that case, ladies, we will leave you to it and get John here kitted out,” Mickey declared. He then aimed at John, “How do you fancy a quick trip to Denmark Street to pick a new guitar?”

“Ah. I still have my duties,” he answered, looking at Donna. “I have to stay here.” 

“No, honest you don’t,” Donna stressed, wanting him to enjoy this new development. “We will only be in Martha’s suite. Nowhere dangerous, so if you want to check it out first, I’m sure we can be safe for an hour or so.”

“Fine by me,” Mickey readily agreed. “We will have you back here as soon as possible.” 

“Then, let’s begin,” John proposed.

♫♪♫♪

A few hours later, Donna rested for a while as she watched John practice posing with his new guitar.

“What do you think? Like this, or more like this?” he wondered, changing his stance every few seconds.

She couldn’t help laughing at the delighted expression on his face. “They all look good. Did they sort you out an outfit too?”

“Yes. A bit less ABBAish this time, thankfully, and nearer my old style.”

“Can’t wait to see it later, then.” She grinned mischievously at him, thinking of her previous reaction to his leather look. Would she be able to resist his charms this time around, she wondered? 

“Talking of later,” he hesitantly began, bringing her out of her happy daydream, “are you really going to call Callum?”

“Yes, of course I am,” she insisted, more to convince herself than anybody else. “Why do you ask?”

He took off the guitar strap and sat beside her on the settee. “Because I can help you make the call, if you want.”

“I am perfectly capable of making a video call,” she huffed. 

“But ‘able’ and ‘capable’ are two different words,” he retorted before placing a comforting hand over hers. “And if you are nervous about talking to him, that doesn’t make you a bad person. Just normal.”

He understood perfectly. How had she ever doubted him? “I’d like that. Thanks.”

“How about doing it now? Get it over and done with, before you overthink it,” he suggested. 

“Alright.” Taking in a deep breath for courage and giving his hand a squeeze, she brought up the relevant number on her phone and pressed the video call icon.

To her relief, it didn’t take too long before it was answered. There in front of her, was her long-lost son. “Hello. Callum. It’s me,” she stiltedly began. 

“Hello Donna,” he replied. “How are you?”

A voice in the background yelled out, “Who is it? Who’s on the phone?”

He turned sideways to shout back, “Mum, it’s Donna and her husband!”

“Can I see?” they heard.

“No,” he answered, flushing with embarrassment. 

Donna didn’t dare look at John as they waited to see what happened next in this odd conversation. 

A middle-aged woman then appeared apologetically in the background. “It’s her! Sorry. Didn’t mean to butt in. I’ll let you get on with it.”

“Hello,” Donna called out to her. “It’s lovely to finally see who has taken such good care of Callum for all these years. You must be very proud of him. I’m hoping to get to know him better.”

Callum glared back at Donna through the screen. “You’ll find out more if you actually talk to me,” he griped.

“Sorry. Just building bridges,” Donna apologised. “Never done this sort of thing before.”

“Funnily enough, neither have I.” 

“Callum,” his mother chided. “Remember your manners.”

“Anyway, I wanted to take this first step,” Donna explained, ignoring his outburst, “since we are both really new at this game, and would like to continue, if that is okay with you.”

“Sure,” he agreed. “How does your husband feel about it all?” 

“I’m not…,” John started to correct him.

“We aren’t married,” Donna said at the same time, “but he supports all this.”

Callum didn’t look convinced. “And he isn't going to try and rough me up again?”

“That was merely a misunderstanding,” Donna consoled him. “John looks after me.”

“I thought you were attacking her,” John put in for good measure. “There have been a few that try.”

“Okay,” Callum acknowledged with a nod of his head. “As long as you promise.”

“We do.”

Now at a loss for words, Callum said, “Right then. I’ll let you get back to your concert tour thing.”

“I’ll phone again soon,” Donna vowed. 

He seemed satisfied with that. “Good. Bye then.”

“Bye,” they chorused and then her son was gone. 

“That didn’t go too badly,” John noted. 

“Do you think he liked me?” Donna fretted. 

“Of course he did. Small steps at first, to build a relationship, remember.” John was quite pleased with himself for avoiding saying the words ‘baby steps’ in that moment. “He’s probably shaking with nerves too.”

She nodded. “Probably. I spoke to my son. I can’t believe this is actually happening to me.”

“It is,” he confirmed, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. “The start of something important.”

“Lots of big things, all at once,” she commented, looking up into his eyes. 

“Are you saying that because he thinks we’re married?” he teased.

Inevitably, she swatted his arm. “Give over. Mr Bodyguard-now-band-member.”

“We both seem to be having a stroke of good luck,” he stated, giving her body a squeeze.

Removing his arm from her shoulder, she retorted, “You can pack the stroking in. Let’s see if you still think that you're lucky after a couple of gigs.”

“Bring it on,” he enthused.

♫♪♫♪


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** sorry for the delay in updating. It's been too hot here in the UK to think.

The noise as they entered the stadium seemed different somehow. Probably because this time John was entering as a member of the band, he decided, and allowed himself to feel the thrill of it all. 

“Still ready to do this, Mr Bodyguard?” Donna had teased him as they reached her dressing room.

“I think so,” he answered. “Are you ready to give me up for a couple of hours on stage?”

“Definitely,” she replied, turning to grab her stage outfit to change into. “Although my distant pining for you won’t push down on me like it usually does. Unless you being as far as two metres away is a terrible distance between us.”

He playfully waggled his eyebrows. “I’ll let you decide that one. If you need me to stand closer, just give me the nod.”

“I’ll give you something alright if you don’t get your bum in gear and change into your trousers,” she shot back, pointing at the new leather pair hanging from its hook on the wall.

“Erm...” He hesitated for a moment. “Got any talcum powder, just in case.”

After huffing, she rifled through a large cosmetic bag and pulled out a dispenser of the stuff. “Here you go. One bottle of baby talc. But don’t expect me to rub it in.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to?” he laughed, pleased to see the embarrassed flush upon her skin. 

“You are pushing your luck,” she slowly enunciated, pointing an irate digit at him. “Now do me up.”

Dutifully, he pulled up the long zipper on the back of her dress whilst trying to avoid watching her adjust the position of her bust. If he wasn’t careful, there’d be more than one reason why his leather trousers would be too tricky to get on. “There you go,” he trilled. “No unwanted hidden attackers in there.”

She smiled at him via their mirror reflection. “There’s a couple of wanted hidden attackers in here, but we’ll keep that between ourselves, eh?”

The memory of how hidden they had been the night before in bed, suddenly struck him with an unhealthy slap. “Donna, can we talk about something else, please?” he begged. 

“Why? Oh,” she gasped as he stood up straighter. “I see. Didn’t know I could have that effect. What shall we discuss instead?”

Don’t bring up that evening’s sleeping arrangements, he ordered himself. Don’t bring it up! “Wh-wh-whatever you like,” he stammered. 

“Oh really?” She quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at him. “In that case, I’ll save our much-needed little discussion about last night until later. Why don’t you go and get us a nice cold drink?”

Keen to get away and regroup his thoughts, as well as his libido, he readily agreed to find something.

♫♪♫♪

As John’s stage persona appeared in the mirror before them, Donna could feel her interest rising. It was the guyliner and manscara look, she reasoned, along with the leather. The tight-fitting leather. It fair made her mouth drool.

He finished the last touches to his makeup and then pushed the cosmetic bag back towards her. “Thanks. What do you think?”

‘Hot man in the room!’ her senses screamed. 

“Very nice,” she cautiously answered, needing to fan herself. Fiddling with rearranging the makeup in the bag gave her reason to look away for a moment. “It’s a bit weird sharing a mirror like this, after this time being on my own. To think we used to have the whole band in the same dressing room at one time, sharing a bathroom with all the other acts on the bill. Things have certainly changed.”

“They have,” he agreed, thinking of those distant days, all mucking in together. He was brought out of his thoughts by her leaning forward to compassionately touch his arm.

“It’s good to be back though, isn’t it?” she wondered.

“Definitely,” he said brightly. Even if it was only good because he was sharing it all with her. It made it special. “Might be only a short time. Who knows?”

“Nerys should get in contact soon, you’ll see. At least we’ve got until the end of the tour next week,” she comforted him. “Enough time to have some fun.”

Giving her hand a squeeze, he replied, “Plenty of time.” And he intended to gain the fun element too.

♫♪♫♪

It was just before song number three that John was introduced onto the stage and Donna was halted from making the most of his saunter across in front of her to take up his position next to Mickey. Yet that leather-clad backside was still a treat to behold, she noted as she concentrated on the new dance moves.

Dance moves that coincidentally, or not, drove Rose to remain near to him after every twist and turn. At one point it looked as though she would drape herself all over him in adulation, and Donna inwardly seethed. Was this a put-up job? Did Rose really want him that much? Hadn’t first dibs been called on him already?

And then the absurdity of her thoughts struck Donna. For a start, nobody had actually called dibs on him, and it was rather sexist to do so. Second, him spending most of the night before kissing her was probably some drunken thing instead of a sign of long-held attraction. Third, everyone into women fancied Rose. It was almost the law. Hadn’t he mentioned his previous crush within moments of meeting on this job? It all made perfect sense that he’d revel in the attention. 

Lastly four, Rose always went for the best blokes. Always had. She didn’t put up with just anybody. And there was no finer bloke than John. He was kind, sweet, intelligent, handsome, and sexy. The whole package. Any person would be lucky to have him. And if that lucky person wasn’t Donna Noble well, life would go on for everybody else. She would just have to get over this silly fancy. 

I mean, who at her age lusted after some unattainable bloke? Sad, lonely people, that’s who. Yes, she could acknowledge that was the case for her, but she now had the promise of a relationship with her son, so there’d be something to fill the empty days when the tour was over and John was no longer needed to be her bodyguard. 

Funnily enough, as her inner thoughts began to spiral down, he turned and smiled at her. That heart-melting smile he often had on his face; and she was gone. 

Bugger! This was no longer some idle fancy. This was turning into love. Probably already was, if she was honest with herself. A love that could take forever to get over if Rose sought him out as her partner.

♫♪♫♪


	14. Chapter 14

When the interval began, John came off the stage literally glowing. His body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and happiness pulsed through him.

“What did you think of that?” Mickey asked as they walked.

“Brilliant,” John replied. 

Rory fondly patted him on the back. “It went pretty well from where I sat too.”

“Not that he was looking at you,” Mickey joked. 

“Aw. He never does,” Rory stated with a pretend pout. 

“What do you mean I never look at you?” John tetchily queried. “Of course I do.” 

“He’s lost,” Rory commented, sharing a conspiratorial glance with Mickey as they arrived in the dressing room and chose a seat. “Totally gone. And I bet we weren’t the reason he decided to play tonight.”

“That is a complete and utter lie,” John began to protest. “Why, I-”

“Shush. Here she comes,” Mickey muttered to interrupt him.

John frowned. “Who?”

“Hello Donna,” Rory greeted her as she appeared at their dressing room door. “What can we do for you?”

She looked a bit flummoxed. “Oh erm... I came to congratulate John on the set.” Avoiding his gaze, she added, “It all sounded good.”

“You’ve got a number one fan already, John,” Rory teased him. 

Mickey laughed with Rory. “Perhaps she’d like to get your autograph.”

Rory cheekily wondered, “In a special place?”

It gained an equally cheeky answer. “A very special place.”

That was it! Donna blazed at Rory and Mickey, “Pack it in, you two! You’re like five-year olds at times. I was only being nice.”

From bedside her now, John reached out to take her arm. “Come on, Donna. Let’s get a cold drink. I could certainly do with one.”

“Yeah, he’s all hot and worked up for you,” Rory continued as though she hadn’t chastised him. So she thumped him on the shoulder. “What did you do that for?” he wailed.

“Count yourself lucky I didn’t aim _much_ lower,” she threatened, and stormed off. 

The sound of guffaws followed them down the corridor, but John was determined not to lose his good mood. “Take no notice of them. It was meant to be at my expense. You know how they just love to wind you up.”

“And they succeeded,” she spat, “unfortunately. Sorry.” Taking a few deep breaths, she visibly calmed down. “They remind me of all those adolescent idiots at school. Been a long time since I’ve been there. You’d think I’d have gotten over it by now.”

Her teenage years had been blighted by pregnancy, he remembered, so John rubbed a hand over her shoulder in comfort. “It’s not that long ago. Only a couple of years,” he joked to lighten the mood. 

“I wish,” she stressed with a small laugh. “I forgot to ask. Did you manage to get through your mum earlier to invite her to come tonight?”

He winced slightly. “I did but she wasn’t up to coming. Never mind. Another night, perhaps.”

“Or failing that, perhaps we could go visit her,” she suggested. “Have you taken many photos to show her later?”

“Quite a few,” he admitted, bringing out his phone from a jacket pocket. “Want to see?”

They stood where they were, close together in the corridor, swiping through all the images he had captured. They were of the band, the audience, and a couple of both. “Careful, I almost got in one of these then,” she teased, biting down on the disappointment she felt at the prominence of Rose in them all. 

“You’re in there,” he protested. “See!” He efficiently pointed her out in several shots. “A bit blurred in that one,” he admitted, “and that one. Okay, that one could have been better. This needs dealing with.”

“What do you mean?” she squealed in laughter as he grabbed her hand and raced them back into their dressing room to switch on all the mirror lights. 

“I mean,” he began to explain as he held the phone aloft, “that we need to take some decent photos of you.”

“Stop it,” she futilely requested as he snapped away. “You don’t need me in there. I was joking!” 

“Nevertheless, this moment would not be properly recorded without you and that black dress,” he insisted.

“This black dress?” she asked, looking down at her attire in confusion. “What’s so special about it?”

“As if you didn’t know,” he mocked. “That dress is a weapon of mass destruction.” He then neatly caught her reaction, much to his later pleasure. 

“Can you hear yourself?” she laughed. “You talk as though it makes me some sort of goddess.”

“And your point is?”

“Geroff!” she disparaged, giving his arm a swipe. “Now hand me the phone and I’ll take some of you. Your mum will be much more interested in that.”

“Shan’t,” he playfully denied as she grabbed his wrist.

“I bloody-well will.”

He relented his hold on the phone when the impulse to kiss her was too much to contain. Kissing someone wearing stage makeup, however, is an acquired taste, he had discovered, despite the yearning. Especially when you have the someone you yearn for held within your embrace, full of fire and passion. 

The moment was interrupted by a loud rap on the doorframe. 

“Guess who I found nearby, outside in the bar,” Martha announced. She was greeted by the bleary gaze of Donna and John standing incredibly close together. “Come on, tell me,” she ordered.

“No idea,” John stated.

“Who?” Donna asked at the same time. 

“Someone you might remember,” Martha coyly hinted and stepped aside to reveal a tall, handsome man with piercing blue eyes and a glittering smile.

There was an American twang to his accent as he said, “Hello Doctor.” 

“Hello Jack,” John greeted his old friend, lurching forward to embrace him. “What are you doing here?”

“I read in the music press that you’ve joined The Companions, so I had to come and see for myself,” Jack answered, and then spotted Rose waking nearby in the corridor, heading back towards the stage. “Well, hello Rose. I’m Jack,” he schmoozed, moving into her pathway. “Nice to meet such a beautiful woman.”

“Can you take the flirting elsewhere, please? I have a stage I have to be on,” Donna grouched as she pushed passed.

“Donna?” John called after her, but she was determined to ignore him.

[ ](https://64.media.tumblr.com/0c7dcb92919a5b2702d8b00481deda34/f7f934bca4d9f3dc-ed/s400x600/3f178392e865b309cc6091a19663b8d73717ab6a.png)


	15. Chapter 15

She was utterly furious with herself for feeling jealous. How could she be so stupid? And John needed to do his job, she reminded herself, which still included being her bodyguard. So, Donna stopped and waited for him to catch her up. “Sorry, had a bit of a mad moment,” she muttered, averting her gaze. 

His nudge on her shoulder jerked her head back up to look at him. “Thought you’d gone nuts for a second,” he whispered and then more loudly introduced his friend. “Jack, I’d like you to meet Donna Noble. I’ve been assigned to look after her.”

Donna keyed herself up to meet indifference, but she got something else entirely.

“Nice to meet… Hang on a second,” Jack retorted and turned to gape at John as the memories stirred in his head. “I remember her. She’s the one. That’s the redhead you used to moon over. Oh, this is priceless!”

“No, it isn’t,” John immediately denied, his cheeks reddening. “I did no such thing.”

“Believe me, he did,” Jack leaned in to aim at Donna, who looked none too pleased at the reference. 

“Two members of Kasterborous. Our luck seems to be in tonight,” Rose commented. 

“Your luck could be in generally tonight,” Jack schmoozed. “After the show, how about we go for dinner together.”

She turned and slyly asked her bandmate, “What are you thinking, Mickey?”

“Why not?” Mickey replied, grinning at Jack. “Fancy reliving a little bit of the old magic?”

“Oh no, I can’t steal a place on your tour,” Jack politely declined. “I don’t know the words to your songs.”

“Then how about we perform one of yours?” Mickey suggested. “Just the one song though.”

“And we can all meet up for dinner later,” Rose added, loving this new turn to the evening. 

Jack, however, was still being politely wary. “I only came here to catch up with John.”

“A song and a proper catch up later over dinner sounds fine to me,” John assured them all. 

“Then that’s agreed,” Mickey announced, clapping his hands together. “Jack can come on just before the finale.”

Rory nodded. “What song of theirs shall we sing?”

“I know just the one,” Jack supplied as he gazed intensely at John.

♫♪♫♪

Giving his guitar a melodious twang, Mickey spoke into the microphone. “In honour of having the legendary Doctor with us tonight, we thought we’d pay tribute to Kasterborous with a special song.”

The crowd suitably cheered as the opening notes to one of Kasterborous’ most famous hits vibrated through the loudspeakers. And then the crowd roared in delight as the voice of Jack began to sing the words. “♫♪♫♪ The girl of my dreams is with me tonight ♫♪♫♪”

When he actually climbed on stage, the wall of noise as the crowd reacted would have warmed any heart, and Jack was keen to milk this moment back in the spotlight, stretching out his arms covered in a sparkly outfit. He moved gracefully across the space to stand next to Rose as she sung with him, a beautiful duet of an old familiar song. 

But Donna’s eyes were on John instead. Was he happy with the way this reunion was playing out? He’d said welcoming words, but he hadn’t seemed overly keen to offer Jack a spot with them. 

It wasn’t until John turned to look at her as Jack sung the words “♫♪♫♪ My life is yours. Just take my hand ♫♪♫♪” did she feel he was truly okay. 

To her delight, John edged closer and sung along to the next line, in her direction. “♫♪♫♪ Be mine for all of time ♫♪♫♪”

Soppy fool, she thought as the ballad continued. He was far too gorgeous for his own good. Or hers. Yet it wouldn’t hurt to make the most of this wonderful feeling whilst it existed, so it took little effort to sing back to him.

Within moments, Mickey steered the song into a loud, rambunctious rending of The Companions last hit, to end the show. Ending on the bam of the last chord, accompanied by exploding confetti cannons onto the audience, the troop took their curtain calls, and eventually left the stage. 

There was a brief, snatched exchange between Donna and John, to confirm that everything was okay, before he was whisked away by the boys into their dressing room, to loud raucous laughter. 

“You’ve been left behind,” Martha noted as they walked together along the backstage corridor.

“It was inevitable,” Rose mischievously added. “Bound to happen. Can’t trust men to stick around.”

“Not men. Boys,” Martha criticised. After all, she’d been left behind too. 

“Yeah,” Donna pretended to agree, her thoughts somewhere else entirely. “Did you happen to hear what Jack said before we went onstage? When he first arrived.”

“Yes,” Rose answered. “Dirty flirt. I bet he’s had more women than hot dinners.”

“I heard he’s bisexual,” Martha commented. “Might spoil that figure.”

Rose merely grimaced. “Doesn’t mean that half the people he’s slept with are women. There’s probably a biased.”

Okay, they probably hadn’t heard what Jack had said about her, but it brought up an entirely different question. “Is that why he’s sought out John tonight, do you think?” Donna wondered.

“You clearly have competition,” Martha stated, and gave Donna a consoling touch. “Make a grab for him, while you can.”

“But I…,” Donna started to deny in protest, but Rose couldn’t resist teasing her.

“If you don’t, I certainly will.”

Watching her friends saunter away to get changed before heading for their temporary home, Donna had plenty of food for thought. Had she been John’s crush? Would he now go after Rose? Was Jack there to win John’s heart? And was she merely a pawn in it all?

♫♪♫♪


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I’m rather zonked out at the moment so I apologise if this reflects that.

From her position at the end of the restaurant table, Donna was able to watch all them talking animatedly together. Rory’s girlfriend Amy had been able to join them, so she was swapping anecdotes with Martha as Mickey looked on whilst passing the odd comment to Rory. Jack, Rose, and John were engrossed in their conversation about former band days and the people they’d met in common. All of which left Donna out on a social limb. Did she muscle in or just sit back to enjoy the passing noises? 

For a while she thought she had gotten away with having to commit an opinion, but Jack suddenly turned his attention on her silent form. “What did you think of us?”

Shaken for a moment, she played for time. “Kasterborous, you mean? I remember you well although we only shared the bill once. Saying that, I didn’t recognise John until he told me his name.”

“Really?” Jack gave John a pitying glance. “I thought he’d be more memorable.”

“People change over ten years, and he wasn’t wearing his signature stage outfit,” she pointed out in her defence. “In the same way, I didn’t recognise you when you showed up earlier.”

“Pft! Surely not,” Jack dismissed. Everybody knew him. And those that didn’t were not of importance. 

“You didn’t know who I was until my name was said,” she stressed, not liking his arrogance. When he went to deny it, she added, “It works both ways.”

“Never mind,” John commented to quell any possible argument, “we know who we all are now.”

“You knew me right away,” Rose said to Jack in triumph, “despite me looking older.”

It gained the reaction she obviously wanted. “You hadn’t aged a day, beautiful,” Jack crooned, taking her hand. “I’d have known you anywhere.” 

“Lucky her,” Donna sarcastically muttered into her drink. She placed her glass down onto the table as she considered, “It makes you wonder how John picked me out without the name on the door.”

“Oh, I knew,” he spluttered by her side, casting an anxious glance at Jack afterwards. “You were erm… easy to find.”

“The power of Google,” she commented when Jack looked as though he was about to embarrass his friend. 

“Among other things,” Jack couldn’t resist saying. “Have you two paired up yet?”

There was a choking sound from John as the drink he was sipping went down the whole hole. 

“John?!” Donna exclaimed in horror, reaching out to pat and rub his back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he hoarsely answered after some seconds of coughing, wanting to ease the concern on her face. “Honest.” He smiled, loving the feel of her hand still on his back, and he leaned to make the most of it. 

“The answer to your question, is no,” Rose told him. “As you can see, they’re resisting it.”

“I am his client,” Donna pointed out, “and this is a professional relationship, before you start.” Giving them her best withering look, she added, “Stop trying to push me into something more just for your entertainment.”

“Sorry,” Rose quickly apologised, realising her mistake. “I won’t.”

Beside her, Jack was feeling extremely puzzled. “Why can’t you do what you like now that John is in your band?”

“I’m also her bodyguard,” John supplied. “To forget that would be professional suicide and could mean death for my client.”

“Then stop being her bodyguard and hire someone else to do it,” Jack reasoned. “Have yourselves some fun.”

“Fun? Fun! Is that all I am?” Donna fumed. 

“Donna, he doesn’t mean it like that,” John tried to defend his friend.

But Donna wasn’t having it. “No, this isn’t about me as a person. Apparently, I am now an amusement park for any passing bloke who needs to waste an hour or so. That may work for you but for me that’s an insult.”

“Donna, please sit down,” John begged her as she pushed her chair back to stand. 

“I’m too tired to deal with this crap. You don’t have to follow me. After all, I wouldn’t want to spoil your fun,” she aimed at Jack before storming off. 

“John?” Rose’s frightened face beseeched him to intervene. 

In one swift movement, he stood. “I should go with her. Make sure everything’s alright. It’s been a trying week,” he partially explained.

“She found her son,” Rose hastily whispered to Jack. “It’s been a long time.”

Oh,” Jack contritely gasped. “Perhaps I ought to go with you and apologise.”

“Perhaps you should,” Rose agreed.

♫♪♫♪

“Let me go in first,” John advised Jack. “Give me a couple of minutes.” He then left his friend standing outside the hotel suite and entered using his key card. “Donna?” he softly called out.

“I’m here,” she replied to lead him nearer. 

He found her standing in her bedroom, in tears, pacing up and down. Immediately, he opened his arms to offer comfort, and she willingly took it. 

“It’s okay,” he crooned into her ear as he hugged her tight. “I’m here. I’ll keep you safe.”

“And what about that sexist pig?” she asked, from somewhere near his neck. 

“He’s sorry for upsetting you and taking the joke too far.”

She lifted her head to gaze into his eyes. “You’ve brought him up here, haven’t you?”

“I erm…” He flushed a bright red. “I… yes. He’s outside.”

There was a faint knock on the suite door.

“You’re a soft touch. Did you know that?” she pondered. She stepped back and let go of the last remnants of her anger. “You’d better let him in.” 

“Thank you,” he gushed, giving her cheek a quick peck, and rushed to open the door. “Come in,” he told Jack.

A very humble Jack entered the living room. “I’m really sorry, Donna,” he said as soon as he saw her. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“Thank you. What did you mean to do?” she couldn’t help querying.

“Well,” Jack spluttered, “when I saw John with you after all this time, I thought he’d finally got his act together.”

Ignoring the squeak from John, she pressed for more information. “Act together? In what way?”

“Has he not told you?” Jack wondered and saw the horrified look on John’s face. “Probably not, knowing him. He’s always been a bit reluctant to start a meaningful relationship.”

“He’s said something of the sort,” she agreed.

“That’s new,” he commented to himself. “Our John tends to be a dark horse with his love life. Yet he’s found you, after all this time.”

“Pardon?” She shook her head to clear the muddle. “I don’t understand.”

“Ah, you’re in denial too,” Jack noted. “Things looked pretty close when I saw you two together in the dressing room. I was sure you were an item. Anyway, I was wrong.” He then turned to ask John, “Is that offer still open?”

“What offer?” 

John sheepishly glanced at her. “The offer I sort of made, since it is so late, and we’ve been drinking…”

She sighed, knowing exactly where this was going. Any repetition of the night before was now clearly out the window. “You want Jack to sleep in your room tonight. Fine. Do what you like. Just keep the noise down, please and I’ll see you in the morning. Busy day tomorrow.”

“What’s happening tomorrow?” Jack quietly asked John.

“We move to the next tour venue,” John supplied. “My room is through here.”

“Don’t you ever share with Donna?” she heard Jack ask as she walked away.

“Shut up!” John warned. 

After that, she couldn’t be bothered to listen in. All she wanted was her bed.

♫♪♫♪


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** this might be the penultimate chapter. We'll see...

It was no good. John couldn’t sleep and it wasn’t because of the large male body sharing his bed as well as snoring in his ear. Okay, it might have been part of the reason, he had to admit, but the truth was, he was worried about Donna. 

Had he ruined any chance of furthering their relationship? They’d been laughing and teasing one another for the last few days, gradually drawing each other out, and now she’d gone right back into her harsh shell. This did not bode well.

His instincts told him to get up, go into her bedroom and check she was alright, but she would never forgive him for opening her up to scrutiny or possible danger from Jack. It just wasn’t her style. No doubt this situation was causing her anxiety. He suspected she was having a hard-enough time with the fact two men were now sharing her suite, one of whom was a complete stranger. 

You’d been a complete stranger too, his thoughts insisted on pointing out.

Yes, but he’d been there to protect her. To make sure she was safe. Always had been. He wasn’t the danger. 

Lying next to him, Jack slumbered on, seemingly oblivious to any possible disastrous situation. Although John quickly adjusted the duvet to cover Jack’s exposed body since the man was in just his underpants. Some things don’t need looking at twice. 

Since he was awake anyway, John felt he might as well be proactive. Having made the decision to do something, anything, he reached for his mobile phone and sent a text to Donna. ‘Are you still awake?’ 

‘No I’m deep asleep. This was sent by a robot,’ soon came the answer. 

‘Me too. The awake thing and not the robot. Not even part of me,’ he replied.

‘Shame. I quite fancy dealing with Iron Man.’ 

‘In that case, want to meet up by the lounge curtains?’ he offered. 

‘Should be nice this time of night, I hear. Meet you there.’

He smiled as he clambered out of bed, loving her sense of the absurd, and crept out of the room as quietly as he could. 

Behind him, Jack smirked knowingly before turning over.

♫♪♫♪

“Hello,” he quietly greeted her when she appeared moments later, noting she hadn’t bothered to put on a dressing gown either.

“Hello. Fancy meeting you here,” she replied in kind as she approached. She ended up next to him, within a distance that was normally socially comfortable. “This not sleeping is getting to be a habit of ours.”

He yearned to reach out, but instinctively knew not to do that yet, that it would drive her away. “I don’t mind if it means spending the time with you.”

“Careful, compliments like that lead to other stuff,” she awkwardly joked, taking in his bare torso in the moonlight. It felt like an offer upon an unseen altar. Was he deliberately trying to tempt her?

Apparently so because he moved nearer to whisper, “Other stuff can be pretty good. I enjoyed last night, for instance.” 

Really? “Despite no sex?” she wanted to know. Suddenly it seemed of paramount importance. Usually sex was a deal breaker with men. 

“I didn’t exactly go without,” he reminded her, causing them both to blush. “It was lovely to… you know. After all that kissing.”

His adorableness made her want to kiss him again. “I didn’t think it would be enough.”

Please don’t think that, he silently begged. “You are always enough for me,” he sincerely proclaimed, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist. “Anything you are willing to give me is enough.”

Was this a trick, she wondered. “Why?”

“Because…” Just say the words, his heart screamed at him, but he couldn’t get them passed his throat. If he couldn’t say it, he’d have to show her, he realised. Once the words are said, you can’t take them back. In that moment he feared that she would not believe him. The safest option was to pull her into his embrace and show his love. So he did. 

Leaning down to softly kiss her lips, he murmured, “I have what I want, right here.”

Returning the kiss was easy. His succulent lips seemed to pour a delicious heat into her body. It drew her near, eager to enjoy and be enjoyed by him. 

Yet she felt the need to ground them. “Does that only apply to where you’ve got your hand?” 

“This one?” he queried, giving her body a gentle squeeze. He groaned when she reciprocated. “Oh Donna, I wish I could spend the night with you in bed.”

After several long kisses had been exchanged, she cheekily asked, “What happened to waiting until the tour was over?”

“I’ve come to a decision about that,” he replied around another sweet kiss. “I’m going to give up the bodyguard gig.”

She immediately broke away from their embrace to accuse him, “You’re leaving me?!”

“No. No, never. Not that,” he insisted, reaching out to entice her back. “I don’t want to leave you. God forbid. I thought I’d phone Nerys as soon as possible, ask her to find you a different bodyguard to take over from me and give us a chance to see where we could go.” He snuggled her close, not wanting to let go. “What do you think?”

“Oh John,” she gasped. “I don’t know what to say. Are you sure you want to do that, for me?”

Inside John’s bedroom, Jack pressed his face into the pillow and muttered to himself, “Hurry up and make that bloody phone call, or I’ll do it for you.”

♫♪♫♪


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** this bit is slightly longer than usual since it is my eldest son's birthday; and many thanks to [lady_macgyver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_macgyver).

John stood looking at Donna with a shocked expression on his face. Having garnered the courage to phone up Nerys and ask about handing in his notice, the last thing he expected was for her not to answer. “It’s still ringing,” he observed. “No one is picking up.”

“Strange,” she noted as the call went to voicemail and he began to leave a message to request they contact him. “Let me try. I’ve got Nerys’ personal number.”

She disappeared into the bedroom to grab her mobile phone and emerged having dialled the number. “Well?” he queried as her expression puckered.

“She’s not answering that either. That’s not like her. I’ve known her for years! Since we were at school together. She lives and dies on the phone. Do you think she’s been rushed to hospital or something?”

“It’s possible,” he reluctantly agreed. “Would she leave her phone behind if she had?”

“Not a chance,” she reasoned. “It’d be all over Facebook and twitter.”

“Have you checked them?”

“Yes,” she answered with her eyes fixed on the device in her hands. “There’s no mention of anything. Absolutely nothing.”

“Perhaps the waterpipes have burst,” he suggested.

“Or the ceiling has collapsed,” she continued. “Whatever it is, they’d need help clearing it up.”

“Are you suggesting we drop by to see?” he wondered. 

With a tiny shrug of her shoulders, she muttered, “Couldn’t hurt, could it? We’ve got to leave today anyway.”

“Come on then,” he encouraged her, “Let’s get dressed and go see. I know you won’t be happy until we double check.”

“Thanks,” she gasped in relief. “Won’t be long.”

“Should I come too, just in case?” Jack asked from his bed when John walked back in there to dress. “If a clean up job or humping boxes about is needed, I can help. But if everything’s alright, I’ll toddle off home.”

“You've been listening in. Toddle off?” John teased him with a laugh. “You’re sounding more English every day you spend here. By all means cadge a lift with us.

♫♪♫♪

The cab slowed down as it entered Dean Street, looking for the right establishment to turn off.

“Up here on the left will do, thanks,” Donna told the driver. “Doesn’t look as though anything is wrong,” she commented to John and Jack. “The worst we might get done is some shopping.”

“I could do with some breakfast,” Jack replied as the taxicab stopped to let them out on to the grey London street. “My treat,” he magnanimously offered his companions, who were looking rather anxious. 

John was steeling himself to give his speech, again, and the soft touch of Donna’s hand was a great consolation. “Here we go.”

He led the way to the half-hidden entrance and up the narrow stairs to their agent’s office. Normally, Nerys sat behind her cheery receptionist, but as they entered the brightly lit waiting area it was clearly evident no-one was there.”

“Weird,” Donna said, taking in the silent room. Where was all the clatter of keyboards and phones? “Nerys! Are you in here?” she called out. no answer, so she cautiously moved closer to the back offices. “Nerys! Where are you?” she shouted. 

“Nothing. They’ve gone,” John noted as their eyes darted about for clues. “The ceiling’s intact. I’ll go check the plumbing.”

“Wait,” Jack hoarsely whispered, halting John’s movement with a clasp of his upper arm. “Do you hear that?”

“What?” Donna inevitably asked, but John shushed her. 

“I can hear something back there,” he quietly informed them, and edged onwards with Jack following close behind. 

Donna desperately looked for something to use as a weapon before she followed them. She caught them up as John gingerly opened an office door, and the mumbled sound managed to get louder. 

“What the…!” Jack began to exclaim as they adjusted their eyes to the dimmed lighting. 

Inside the room was a woman trussed up with cable ties and some sort of cloth as a gag.

“Nerys! What have they done to her?” Donna cried.

“Hhhhhhmmm mmeerrrrnnnf,” Nerys tried to explain, jerking about in her seat. “Oh! Thank God for that,” she gasped as the gag was removed. “I was beginning to think I’d never be found. He’s a raving lunatic!”

Donna frowned. “Who is?”

“My new temp,” Nerys spat.

“Temp? Why do you need a temp?”

“Because Kelly takes her holiday once a year. She’s gone backpacking in the Himalayas, I ask you. Been gone for a month.”

“Never mind the office gossip. This lunatic temp of yours, who is he?”

“Thanks,” she aimed at Jack as the last of the cable ties was snipped free of her body, and she shook the life blood back into her hands. “He claimed his name was Peter but his name’s really Lance. Lance Bennett. You might have heard of him, the snivelling swine.”

Donna instantly paled. “Yes, I remember him,” she faintly voiced.

Now concerned even more, John let his protective side take over. “Donna, who is Lance? Why do you remember him?”

Coming out of her daze, she answered, “He used to stalk me, years ago. I had to move home to get away from him.”

“So why would he be bothering you now?” John asked. “Nerys, do you know anything?”

Nerys smirked, in the arrogant way she had perfected, and reached down to pull a newspaper from out of the wastepaper bin. “It could have something to do with this,” she declared, almost throwing it into his hands. 

Rifling through a couple of pages, John came to the entertainment news section. It featured a photo of The Companions joined by John himself, and within the article it mentioned Donna had been found by her son. “It mentions us and Callum,” he announced. “How on earth did they get hold of that information?”

“He stated it quite clearly outside the hotel,” Donna replied. “Does it say anything about you grabbing him?”

“Fortunately, not.” John closed the paper and turned his attention on to Nerys. “He must have asked you something. What did he want to know?”

“Where you were, that sort of thing, but I told him you were moving on today to a new hotel. That he’d have to chase you halfway up the M4 to get anywhere near to you,” Nerys supplied. “He wasn’t pleased in the slightest. Went on and on about you daring to even look at a bloke that wasn’t him.

“Look at a bloke? When did I do that?” Donna queried and corrected herself when John shot her a cheeky smile. “Well, in public, I mean.”

He re-opened the newspaper to show her the photo of them on stage, standing quite close together, exchanging a sunny smile. “This could be it.”

“Yeah, how dare I smile on stage,” she complained. “That was completely innocent.”

“And also a bit suggestive,” Jack added as he examined their pose. “Don’t look at me like that. I thought you two were an item when I first saw you too, remember. Turns out I was right, but that doesn’t matter. We need to report this to the police.”

Nerys already had the phone in her hand. “What do you mean you’re an item?” she accused Donna. “When did that all happen?”

“I erm…” John blushed. “I need to talk to you about that and my position as bodyguard,” he coyly spluttered.

“I see,” she huffed. “Let’s get this police and weirdo business out of the way first, and then I will consider your employment position.”

“The thing is,” Donna began to reason out, “Lance could have come searching for me to bother again, but instead he went to the trouble of shutting you up and going somewhere else instead. Now where would he have gone?” She glanced around the office and noted, “Your filing cabinet is open.”

“He opened it,” Nerys remembered. “He grabbed something out of what was probably your file in there. Which means he could be at your house.”

“Or,” Donna suggested, “he hid that Social Services request Callum mentioned, since you said you hadn’t seen it. He could have been deliberately keeping my son away from me.”

“And he might be on his way to Callum instead of you,” John continued. “Is he capable of doing that?”

“Of course he is,” Nerys snapped. “He’s a nutjob. All he wants to do is get back at Donna for rejecting his poor, tiny, male pride.”

“Then we need to get to Callum as soon as possible,” John decided. “Nerys, you deal with the police. We’ll go make a citizens’ arrest.”

“Fine by me,” Nerys called out to them as they hastened away. “Just leave me to deal with the trauma of being tied up by a maniac. I’m only your agent, after all.”

♫♪♫♪


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I'm not happy with this chapter but at least it is done.

“He’s not picking up,” Donna fretted at her phone as the taxi sped along. “Why isn’t Callum answering? How much of a head start did Nerys say Lance has?”

“Easily more than thirty minutes,” John reluctantly replied. It was plenty of time to reach Callum. 

“We’ll stop Lance before he has a chance to do anything,” Jack promised her.

♫♪♫♪

“NO!” Donna screamed. “For God’s sake, let him go, Lance! It’s me you want. Not him.”

“But he means something to you. Doesn’t he?” Lance yelled back. “More than me!”

“It’s erm… It’s not as though I don’t think anything of you,” she replied.

“Oh yeah?” Lance dismissed her words before prodding Callum in the throat with a sharp blade. “You took me to court,” he accused, “had me legally allowed no nearer than a hundred yards. That’s how much you think of me! But this kid, this little boy turns up out of the blue with no connections is suddenly allowed to be with you. Not me. Him!”

“There’s a special reason for that,” she cautiously responded. “One you might be aware of.”

“I know all about your gymslip pregnancy,” Lance sneered. “How you let yourself get up the duff and then dumped your sprog so that you could go gallivanting around the country with a load of musicians.” 

Donna blanched at his words. “That’s not true,” she insisted.

“Isn’t it?!” Lance shrieked. “I saw you.”

“What do you mean you saw me?” she wondered. 

“Don’t play the innocent with me,” he spat. “You were with that guitar player,” he proclaimed, pointing vaguely, “from the old rock band. You had him in your hotel room. I saw you with him… doing stuff!”

“Give over,” she raged. “You didn’t see squat!”

“I saw you with my own eyes, through the window, half naked with that has been,” Lance maintained. “Oh you think you were really clever, getting that court injunction against me, but it didn’t stop me getting a room in the building opposite, right where I could see you prancing about in front of the window.”

“Got a telescope, have you?” she accused. “To do your peeping Tom act?”

“So what if I did?” he confessed. “It doesn’t alter the fact you would throw yourself at him. Funny how you are suddenly available to jump into bed with a man.”

“I think that’s the point, Lance,” she deliberately riled him. “I finally found a man to take an interest in, and not someone who saw me as an object. As some sort of trophy that you’d parade in front of your mates, if you actually had any.”

“You bitch!” he declared, raising the knife in a more threatening manner. “You’ll pay for that by losing your b-”

He never finished the sentence because John suddenly grabbed him from behind, knocking the knife out of his hand whilst holding his throat, and then Jack dived to rugby-tackled Lance to the ground. Lance was soon pinned down with his wrists held behind his back.

Instantly, Donna ran forward to grasp Callum, hugging him tight for a second. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” she quickly asked. Once he’d nodded to confirm he was okay, she turned her attention onto John. “I was beginning to think you’d never get here.”

“We had a bit of trouble getting over the back fence,” he sheepishly admitted, keeping a grip on their prisoner. 

“But we got here as soon as we could,” Jack tacked on. He nodded down at the prone Lance beneath his knee. “We tried to make it worth the wait.”

Donna suddenly noted that Lance’s wrists were held together with a cable tie. “Where on earth did you get that from?”

“My pocket,” Jack nonchalantly replied. Seeing her confused expression, he waggled his eyebrows whilst saying, “You just never know when they might come in handy.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” John quietly added when she turned her frown on to him. 

“The police will be here any moment, they said on the phone,” Callum’s mother appeared to assure them. “Why was he after my son?”

“It’s because of me, I’m afraid,” Donna confessed, releasing her remaining hold on Callum so that he could be held by his adopted mother. It hurt to see but she knew that it almost meant he had lived in a loving relationship. “Ah. There they are,” she observed as the police car pulled up sharp outside the house.

♫♪♫♪

Two officers wearing stab vests got out of the car and assessed the situation. Explanations were offered, Lance was handcuffed properly, and statements taken, and video footage taken by a neighbour was included with the arrest sheet. Another police car had turned up to help collect witness statements.

Throughout the questioning, Callum sat away from Donna despite her wanting to desperately check on him again. That special position was rightly taken by his mother. By her side, John continued to offer comfort and protection, grasping her hand in his or wrapping an arm around her shoulders. 

It was exhausting after the drama and emotional confrontation. She noted it was lucky they weren’t performing that night, since it gave them the chance to check in on Nerys to see if she was okay before heading off down the motorway to their next venue. 

“Who could have imagined this happening when we woke up this morning?” Jack wondered when they were eventually released by the police to go home. 

“Nothing but fun when you meet me,” Donna joked. “I’m so glad you were here to help though, Jack. Thank you.”

“See. I have my good side,” he cheekily replied, giving her a wink. “And you thought I was all bad.”

“I didn’t,” she denied, causing John to laugh. “Well. Not all the time,” she amended. 

“On that note, I shall leave you two lovey people to get on with your day.” Jack hugged them both goodbye. “Let me know if you need me again.”

“Where to next?” John whispered into her ear. 

Tonight meant together in a hotel room, with him free to take their relationship wherever they wanted to, she remembered. A night full of potential promise. Or disaster. 

“Hmm. I was thinking…. Basingstoke.”

♫♪♫♪

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N2:** many thanks to Serenitys_Lady  for suggesting 'Basingstoke' from Gilbert & Sullivan's "Ruddigore".


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** here it is, the very end; and it has been quite a while since I've seen any BBC South or Southern TV, so I made this host up.  
>  **A/N2:** the artwork below was created by me.

The tour bus was sitting ready and waiting for them to turn up when they got back to the hotel. It took no time at all to collect their belongings but answering their fellow bandmates’ concerns about their wellbeing took a little longer, despite any attempt to shorten the ordeal. 

“Are you really alright?” Martha wondered.

Touched by her friend’s sympathy, Donna hugged her and assured, “I will be. As long as Callum is okay and Lance is safely locked away from me, I can rest for a while.”

A grinning Mickey appeared by their side, and he deftly swung his body into the seat beside Martha. “Talking of resting easy, while we were waiting for you, we decided that you and John can do the local TV interview.”

“What!” she stopped herself from shrieking. “But that’s usually you and Rose’s job.”

He had the cheek to smirk at her. “Usually, yes, but not today.”

“I’m really sorry,” Rose loomed over the seats to declare. “I got out voted.”

“Rory?” Donna called out to him.

His perplexed face peeped out from between two seats. “Did you want me, Donna? Oh, the television appearance. Well, we had a sort of plan. Didn’t we, Mickey?” Mickey merely nodded, letting him continue the explanation. “You will have to eventually appear in court to testify against Lance and it would help your case if the general populace are sympathetic towards you.”

“And that means parading myself on television,” she finished for him. “Of course, it does,” she sarcastically agreed. “More like you couldn’t be arsed to answer the same old questions in an interview.”

“I will admit that was part of it,” Mickey confessed, “but only a tiny bit.”

“I’ll still do it if you want me to,” Rose offered, trying to look earnest. 

Sighing, Donna patted her arm. “No, it’s okay. We’ll do it this time. Might as well face the press when I want to rather than when they’re ramming microphones in my face.”

“WE?” John petulantly queried. “Why am I being roped into this?”

“Because we have to announce you joining us, silly,” she chided him. “Somebody out there has got to remember who Kasterborous were. Hopefully.”

“In all likelihood,” Martha added, getting in on the tease. She could certainly see why Donna loved doing this so much. “You’ll attract your own fans, John.”

“Oh,” he drawled as he considered the thought. “Very well. I’ll do the interview as well as go with you.”

“Might as well,” Donna commented, “seeing as you’ll still be protecting me for a while.”

“I thought you’d finished having to do all that,” Rory remarked. “Sorry.”

“I don’t mind,” John cheerily assured him. “Just making sure nobody else wants to attack Donna.”

“Does that imply you want to attack me?” she saucily wondered.

She laughed when he leaned in to whisper, “For you, anything.”

“Get a room!” Rose protested. “Hopefully, it’ll be my turn to get a bloke next.”

“The separate room has been organised. Can’t promise the man in your life though,” Mickey good-naturedly answered, lightening the atmosphere on the coach back to its usual level as they all giggled. 

John sat Donna down next to him in nearby seats, squeezing her hand to show both his excitement and trepidation with this new development.

♫♪♫♪

Derek Walker had reached the part of the news magazine programme that he loved: interviewing the guest entertainers. “Today we have with us from The Companions, Donna Noble. And with her, the Doctor himself, John Smith!” the TV host announced to the camera. He then turned to his guests sitting on the sofa opposite him. “Welcome to the studio both of you. What are you doing in Southampton?”

“We overshot Winchester by mistake,” Donna joked. “No, Derek. We’re here as part of our tour, in this lovely part of the country. As a special treat, I’ve brought the Doctor with me.” She placed a hand on his arm just in case the audience didn’t know who she meant.

“That doesn’t mean she has let me out because I’ve been good,” John put in.

“Haven’t you been a good boy?” she cheekily wondered. 

“Enough to be allowed to come to Southampton and perform,” he answered. “I’m an honorary member of The Companions now,” he aimed towards their host, Derek, “and will be playing for the remainder of the tour.”

“Talking of the tour, let’s see a short clip of The Companions in action,” Derek cued the tape that showed the band singing two nights beforehand.

“That was in London, the first night I played with them on stage,” John supplied when the clip ended.

“How did that happen?” Derek enthusiastically enquired. “It’s not everyone who gets asked to join them.”

“Charm?” John proposed, looking at Donna.

“Bribery?” she offered for him instead. “Something was said about talent.”

He playfully suggested, “That I have it?” 

“That you need some,” she deadpanned. “We could all do with a bit of extra talent.”

A voice in his ear reminded Derek that he wasn’t the centre of this interview anymore and to pull it back. “How are the other band members taking you joining them?”

“Rose was beside herself, and Martha looked glum,” she teased.

“Good job Mickey and Rory were okay about it,” John added in kind. “Evens up the balance a bit, having me there.”

A possible power struggle made Derek keen to establish a point though. “So you all tend to get on together okay?”

“Well, I don’t like to boast, but they were begging me to play on the very first night,” John stated.

“Shame it took three nights for him to actually play anything half decent,” Donna threw in, “but we got there in the end.”

The television studio audience roared with laughter, much to the host’s delight. “You clearly get on very well together,” Derek commented. “Are we likely to see more from you two in the future?” 

“Oh, we have quite a few things planned,” John enigmatically replied. “Don’t we?” he looked directly at Donna to ask.

“Definitely,” she agreed, nodding her head. “A couple of them we’re not allowed to talk about yet,” she informed Derek. “For artistic as well as legal reasons.”

“Then we will leave it on that note,” Derek wound down the interview, “and wish you both the very best of luck with the rest of the tour.” He then turned to the camera to say, “You can see The Companions featuring the Doctor in Southampton for the next three nights. I’d like to thank our special guests the Doctor and Donna Noble for talking to us tonight.” He waited for the whoop of applause to finish before ending with, “Thank you for watching, and hope you have a good evening.”

Donna beamed with happiness when John took her hand and smiled to show his satisfaction with the way things were going. It would be a hard journey, but it would be worth every second.

♫♪♫♪♫♪


End file.
